Uncalculated Risks
by jennycaakes
Summary: In a twist of fate, Gale Hawthorne and Madge Undersee are chosen from the Reaping bowl of the 74th Annual Hunger Games instead. How will they fight? How will they love? There's more than just a rebellion flaming up around them. How will they get out? All Gale wants to do is wake up from this nightmare, but will it be any better when he can see clearly?
1. Book 1: Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or make any profit from this story.**

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"Pretty dress," I mutter when Undersee opens the door. She's got on this white dress that only her family could afford, the Mayor's family. Of course she'd wear it to something as terrifying as the Reaping. Of _course_ Undersee would make herself as pretty as possible for the ugliest day of the year. Long blonde hair tumbling down her back in ringlets despite it being held back with a ribbon. A pin of gold attached loosely to her dress. Her cheeks instantly spring with pink and I can't help but lock her gaze.

She recovers quickly though, spouting out: "Well, if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?" On the inside I'm laughing, Undersee doesn't attend the Capitol unless she's showing off a group of freaks her talents, which range from absolutely un-useful things to the piano. I hate delivering to the mayor's house. Whether I'll admit it or not it makes me squirm. The risk is ten times greater but Katniss assures me that Undersee wouldn't rat. Not even her father. Still makes me squirm. She doesn't look down on me which is the strangest thing. I almost _want_ her too. It would be normal. Make sense. But she just looks at me like I'm trading. Which I am, I guess. Katniss next to me smirks at her friends answer, but it's not funny to me.

"You won't be going to the Capitol," I tell her, locking my jaw. Why should the Reaping scare her? It shouldn't. Yet still she makes her best effort to look nice. "What can you have? Five entries?" I bet her daddy makes it so she has even less. "I had six when I was just twelve years old."

"That's not her fault," Katniss shoots at me, telling me to stop with her eyes. She hates when I'm like this. Especially inside the District.

"No, it's no one's fault," I mutter lamely. "Just the way it is." Katniss is satisfied with my answer and her and Undersee make the trade while I stand back and watch. Polar opposites, Katniss and her. Brown hair to blonde. Tanned skin to pale. Gray eyes to blue. Undersee looks at me once with eyes filled with unspoken anger and I know that I've won. I always do.

"Good luck, Katniss," she says gently.

"You too," Katniss replies, turning away and motioning for me to follow. We walk the rest of the way back to the Seam in silence, I know she's angry at my comment. But it's true, why shouldn't I have said it? And it's all thanks to none other than the Capitol, the way they divide us between rich and poor so easily. Not that I'm saying Undersee and I would get along much better if she had been from the Seam, she's too quiet, but that's not what matters. What matters is the division they've created among us.

I tell Katniss to wear something pretty sarcastically and I can see the annoyance in her eyes. I make my way back to my house and toss my game bag on the floor. Posy runs to me and attaches herself to my leg.

"Gale, Momma's been worried!"

"I'm fine, Pose," I smile back. "Is Rory ready?" A lot of what Katniss talked about this morning was how it was Prim's first year for the Reaping, but it somehow slipped her mind that it was Rory's too. I didn't mention it though, Prim must be a lot more terrified than Rory. She nods and scratches at the dress she's wearing. "You look nice."

"It's itchy, Gale."

"Well it looks nice," I laugh, picking her up and hanging her upside down by her toes.

"Gale!" Posy giggles and tries to break free of my grasp. "Let me go!" I spin her around shouting something about the older-brother-monster and she continues to laugh.

"Gale Hawthorne," my mother's voice is what gets me to stop. She's standing at the top of the stairs with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed. "You have to get ready."

"Right, Ma," I nod as she rushes back into her room. She's not very prepared for the day either. Now instead of just me she's got two sons going in. Vick's still too young, thank God for that, but she's worried for sure. I hear the splash of the water upstairs and know I have to go rub my skin raw. I wonder what would happen if everyone showed up to the Reaping covered in soot, none of us looking presentable. I bet Effie Trinket would flip out, give the entire District a lesson on appearances.

After I'm clean and dressed I make my way back downstairs. My mother, now waiting for me sighs and straightens my shirt. "Last year," she tells me gently.

"First year," I place my hand on Rory's shoulder. "Nervous?"

"Not in the least," Rory shoots back. He's got this thing where he thinks he isn't allowed to be afraid of anything. I heard him tossing and turning in his sleep last night. That's the thing. If Rory were to get reaped there's no way I'd let him go. I'd volunteer in a heartbeat.

"Yeah well," I pound his back, "we should be going."

"Good luck, Gale," Vick says quickly, gripping my leg much had Posy had. "You too, Rory," he turns to his other brother.

"See you soon," I smile at them, Rory doing the same. As we walk toward the square Rory fidgets in his pants. "Would you stop," I mutter. "You're gonna mess them up."

"They're too tight," he tells me. I laugh because they were too tight on me the first time I wore them too. "Gale, I'm nervous." I knew he was. I even said I knew.

"You've got no reason to be," I tell him gently. If anyone can get me to soften up it's my damn siblings. "I'm not gonna let anything bad happen, alright?" He nods, knowing I mean I'd volunteer. It's not even a question. "Besides, you've got to be strong for Primrose, eh?"

"Shut up," Rory blushes, shoving me away. I grin and hang my arm over his shoulder. The mention of Prim, however, gets me thinking about Katniss. Of course Katniss would volunteer if Prim were Reaped, just as I would for Rory, but then what? Would I volunteer too so I could go in and protect her? Would she volunteer to go in with me? The thoughts get my stomach knotted angrily.

We reach the square and God help me if it isn't Undersee checking in right in front of us. "Wow," Rory smiles. "She's pretty."

"Shove it," I mutter to him, Undersee turning to look at us as Rory flushes. She even offers him a quick smile before running off to her sectioned off area. "Mayor's daughter, idiot."

"Well I know _that_," Rory grumbles, lining up in front of me. "She just looked nice is all. You talk about her like she's a monster."

"I don't _talk_ about her," I hiss, shoving him forward in his step. By now Undersee's long gone, maybe talking to Katniss. Maybe she's just awkwardly standing next to her. I wouldn't know.

"Sometimes you do, and you never make her out so she sounds appealing." Appealing, what a word to describe her. I'm not going to lie and say that Undersee's ugly, she's not. In fact, she's really pretty. Maybe even as pretty as Katniss, but she's not… I don't know the word. Not suitable to be pined over. Not that I pine over people. I'm just saying if I did it wouldn't be her. Quiet, that's the thing. She's so quiet and shy whenever I see her. That just isn't appealing to me.

Rory gets his finger pricked, then I get mine, and then we part ways to our sectioned off areas. I peer through the crowds and see him waving at Prim who timidly waves back, then looks back at her feet. I glance around for Katniss and when I spot her she's talking lightly with Undersee. I try to catch her eye a few times but it never works out.

"Last year," I hear Thom's obnoxious voice over the chatter of the crowd, and turn to face him. He grins and I grin back. "Now, Mr. Hawthorne, how does it feel to go through all seven years without being Reaped?"

"Don't speak so soon," I mutter, dropping my grin and shoving him away. "Last one isn't over yet."

"Might as well be," Thom replies, scouting out over the crowd. "Who do you think it'll be?"

"I don't know, Thom," I roll my eyes. He's always like this, never scared of the Reaping. Even I'll admit I'm nervous. But not Thom, he's never nervous.

"I wonder if they'll cry,"

"Enough, Thom," I cut him off. "Just stop, would you?" His smile drops and he nods.

"Sorry,"

"Whatever," I snap, turning back to look at Katniss. This time she's looking at me and I try to smile; only it doesn't work. Nerves are getting the best of me. I glance toward Rory who's finally losing his superior attitude and staring at his feet. I swallow slowly as Effie Trinket takes the stage, prancing along like she's excited to be here. Honestly, she's not, but not for the same reason we aren't. She hates District 12, we're the worst. No winners since Haymitch Abernathy, who manages to fall off the stage as I think of him.

Haymitch is drunk, obviously. At least this Reaping is partially entertaining considering Effie's hair isn't on correctly anymore and Haymitch has stumbled off the stage. "Ladies first!" Effie cheers, sauntering toward the bowl near the edge. God, please don't let it be Katniss. Don't let it be _Prim_. Don't let it be any of the girls I may or may not have messed around with over the past four years of high school. And then the crowd exhales all at once and I snap my head, realizing I've missed the name. Prim stays in her spot and I sigh gratefully, looking back at Katniss who isn't moving, but rather pale. That's when I notice who's moving, the girl who's making her way timidly to the stage. I'll be damned if it isn't anyone other than Undersee.

She doesn't cry, she doesn't fidget, she stands tall, straightening her dress over her knees. Her blue eyes glare daggers at the crowd. Her father the mayor has gone pale behind her, paler than I thought possible. She doesn't look scared, yet I know she is. Her hands are shaking, her entire body's shaking. And then my heart lurches into my throat as I realize what's actually happening.

Undersee. Undersee was Reaped and she only had 6 damn slips in that stupid glass bowl. The mayor's daughter was Reaped. The girl who I told this morning wouldn't be going to the Capitol. Damn if I don't feel like an ass now. I've already started writing the apology in my head I'll say to her when I go visit to say goodbye when Effie reaches into the boys bowl. I'll tell Undersee I never meant anything I said. I'll tell her I actually thought she was really pretty, and I'll tell her how I'll be rooting for her. I'll tell Undersee that I always saved the best strawberries for her family over mine because I know she liked them so much…

"Gale Hawthorne."

The apology I'm writing in my head comes to a stop as my name rings out over the speakers. It echoes off the buildings. _Gale Hawthorne_. I look toward Katniss who looks like she's going to be sick, up at Rory who's shaking his head, his eyes widened, back at Thom who has never looked more in disbelief in his life… the Peacekeepers yank me out of line and shove me forward, I almost go to snap at them and tell them I'm walking. I glance up at the stage where Undersee continues to shake, even her foot taps nervously as she locks eyes with me. She looks… upset. I'd be upset too if I were her, considering the things I said to her earlier in the day.

Out in the crowd I hear Posy calling my name and my stomach sinks as I hear Vick try to shush her. My knees threaten to give out as I climb the stairs, my eyes instantly finding Rory in the front row who gnaws at the inside of his cheek and stares at the ground. I'm sure he's trying to stop crying. I glance toward Undersee who looks away instantly. Now that I'm closer to her I can see that she's fighting off tears.

The mayor, her Goddam father, has to return to the stage and recite the Treaty of Treason while his daughter's the one that'll be going into the Games. The strangest thing of it all is that his voice doesn't shake. It doesn't quiver. He only looks at her like he's confused, like he doesn't know what to do. If I had a kid and had to be doing that I'd have to excuse myself or something, I wouldn't be able to make it through the whole thing. But he does it, not one teary eye, and she doesn't look at him, instead glares right into the camera. I'm so focused on Undersee that I don't realize we're supposed to shake hands until she mutters my name under her breath angrily.

I lean forward and grab her hand lightly, shaking it once and letting it fall. "District 12's Tributes for the 74th annual Hunger Games! Madge Undersee and Gale Hawthorne! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor." I go to glare at the pink headed freak who coos it, but am pleased in the fact that no one claps. No one. And then I'm ushered into the Justice Building next to Undersee. Undersee. Fragile, weak, quiet little Undersee is going to have to compete in the Hunger Games. She's going to die. I might be the one to kill her. I shove the thought out of my head and cringe as a Peacekeeper shoves me into the room across from hers. Just minutes ago I was planning an apology to her and now I'm not sure if I'll ever get the chance to say it.

As I sit in the empty room waiting for my visitors it finally sinks in. I'm going to kill someone. Someone's going to kill me. I'm going to die. I'm a contestant in the 74th annual Hunger Games.

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_A/N: So I decided to go with Gale's POV because I like it. He's kind of angsty a lot and fun to decipher. Not sure how often I'll be updating this but knowing me it'll probably be at least once a week. Let me know how you like it._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Posting in honor of today being the birthday of Katniss!**

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I pace back and forth around the room as I wait for the first visitors. It's going to be my family. What do I say to them? Will I just know when they get here? I can't deal with Posy crying, I just can't. What about Rory? Oh God, what do I say to them? You can't fit a lifetime of goodbyes into three minutes for crying out loud. The walls seem to close in with each passing second and I feel like I need to throw something. I feel like I'm going to throw up. I keep picturing Undersee getting her throat slit and I want to hurl.

Finally the door opens and in runs Posy, attaching herself to my leg tightly. Her grip is fierce but it doesn't take me long to tear her off and pull her into my arms. "You can't go, Gale," her voice is barely a whisper.

"I have to, Pose," I say softly, holding her closer. "I don't have a choice." She sniffles but doesn't cry, I'm sure it's something Vick said to her. Probably something along the lines of _stay strong_ or _if you cry then he'll cry_. Her tiny hands link themselves around my neck and she buries her face into my neck.

"You'll come back, right?" she must know the chance is slim. It doesn't matter how young she is, Posy's smart. She knows she won't be seeing me again.

"I'm gonna try," I whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead quickly and setting her back on the ground. "Anything to get back to you, I'll do it. Who else would play games with you?" She nods and wipes at her eyes and then steps away. Next I embrace Vick who didn't follow his own advice, tears leaking down his face. "Take care of Posy, okay? Play her silly games with her; just make sure she doesn't watch the Games. At all. Even if I'm doing well or…"

"Okay," he whimpers. Vick has never been good with words or been a good listener. He just needs to be held and that's all I want to do, hold him. His hands are barely big enough to hook all the way around me. "Gale I…"

"Shhh," I squeeze him tighter trying to memorize his form, his scent. My little brother. "I don't have much time. I love you, okay? Stay strong. Help Ma around the house." He nods, and then he too steps away with a quivering chin. They're taking turns, they talked this through. God it's like clockwork, one steps forward as the other steps back. At this point I don't even mind, I just need to see them all. Rory next, I lean my forehead against his and cup his face in my hands. Here's where I feel the tears press against my eyes. "Man of the house," I tell him gently. His eyes search mine frantically and I see them glisten with tears. "You've got to take care of them."

"I don't know how," he blubbers. "Gale, I don't…"

"Katniss will give you game, she'll take you into the woods and teach you to hunt. You can do it, Rory, I believe in you." He nods, and then shakes his head. "You have to."

"You have to come home," he whimpers, throwing his body against mine. "Gale, please."

"I will, I'll come home," I cringe as my voice cracks and cradle him closer to me. My baby brother yet the oldest. The strongest and yet he's still so weak, breakable. "You have to be brave for me. For them, Rory." He nods but I feel his tears leaking through my shirt. Finally he steps back, allowing me to reach for my mother. Her arms wrap tightly around me and she strokes my hair.

"My beautiful boy," she coos, her voice calm and steady. "You're so brave."

"Not like I have a choice, Ma," I shoot back. She pulls away and smiles, her hand cupping my cheek. "I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you too," she says gently. "I always will. Even when you get back, no matter how different you are." She leans forward and kisses my cheek and my insides crack. I wrap my arms around her again, and then Rory and Vick and Posy all join in. I let them cry. I hold them tight. I can't cry in front of them. I can't cry at all. I won't let the Capitol have that privilege.

"I love you guys. I love you all so much, you have no idea. I couldn't ask for a better family."

"Time's up," a Peacekeeper charges into the room.

"No! No, wait, but Gale!" Posy reaches for me. Before the Peacekeeper reaches us I wrap her in one final tight hug. "I love you, Gale," she whispers. "Come home."

"I will, Posy. I love you." I kiss her cheek and then the Peacekeeper pries her from my arms. "I love you!" I shout to them, and then the door slams shut. They're not even out the door for five seconds before I hear her Posy's sob coming from the other side. Gone. They're gone. Just like that. My family is gone. Their scent still lingers in the room and I rub at my face. I have to get back to them. I can't let Posy or Vick or Rory watch me die. I can't, I can't. I'll win, I have to win.

Katniss comes in the room minutes later and instantly she's in my arms. Something bubbles in my stomach but I don't know what it is. "Gale, I…"

"Don't," I cut her off, adjusting my grip around her waist. "Just stay quiet for a minute." She nods and pulls me closer through my shirt in clumps. "Catnip," I choke out, and then I feel her tears leaking through my shirt just as I had with my family. Katniss isn't a crier, she's not weak, she's not scared. And now she's here, crying in my arms. Katniss is crying for _me_.

"You can win," she forces out, nodding enthusiastically. "You can, Gale, you're a fighter. You can show everyone that you can beat them…" She's talking about the Capitol. God, she's talking about the Goddamn Capitol because she knows how much I hate them.

"Catnip," I mumble. "You've got to teach Rory to hunt."

"No," she shakes her head. "You will. You'll teach him once you get back," she jabs her finger at me.

I force a smile and she cracks again, rubbing at her eyes just like me, desperate to not let me see her weaken. "Tell Prim I love her, alright?"

"Okay," she whimpers. She's not good at staying strong.

"You too," I say quietly. "I love you too. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do, Gale," she mutters. "You've got to get a bow. You're not as good as me but you can shoot. Set up traps too, you're good at that." I force the laugh I want to emit back down my throat. Of course she'd say she was better than me at shooting as I'm being sentenced to my death. "You know about plants and things like that, don't spend too much time in that center because you know it all. Trust your gut. Show no mercy."

"Got it," I nod, pulling her into one last hug. I savor her scent, her touch, her voice. "See you soon, Catnip." She swallows tightly and then steps backwards as the Peacekeepers open the door to usher her out. She wipes her eyes and then she, too, is gone. Maybe never to be seen again.

I start pacing again. I can't start thinking like that, like I'm going to lose. I have to act like I'll win, have to return home. I have to be back for Posy and Katniss and Rory and Vick and everyone. I have to be back for everyone. There are people here, people counting on me. The last person to visit me is Thom. The only real friend I have outside of Katniss. Even that cocky bastard hugs me, muttering something along the lines of how sorry he is and how stupid it was of him to say that and he just rambles on and on until I tell him to shut up. Then he laughs and tells me he loves me and that I'm his best friend and I tell him to shut up again because Thom with feelings is not something I'm used to. One last hug and then he's out the door. And then I'm alone.

With a groan I collapse onto the couch and rest my head in my hands. I don't have anyone else that would visit me. Undersee's probably got the whole town lined up for her and I'm already out of people. Pathetic. Who would visit Undersee? I wonder if she'd visit me. Probably not, I don't blame her either. I think back to when I started writing the apology in my head for her and wonder if I actually intended to follow it through. Probably not. I clench and unclench my fists to keep me calm. Only now when the Peacekeeper that forced my family out of the room comes back to take me to the train does it sink in that I won't be seeing them again. I follow him out and force myself to swallow. It gets stuck in my throat.

Undersee's already walking in front of me, tall and proud. As we get in the car I try my hardest not to look at her, but I have to know if she's been crying. If I'm going to have to deal with a weepy mess when we get on the train. But she hasn't been. Her cheeks are a bit wet like she let a few tears slip but that's it. No red rimmed eyes, no short panicky breaths; Undersee's as solid as a rock. I lean back and fidget as the car starts to move. Undersee is unaffected by the shift. Effie starts talking about how excited she is for us to see the train and I lock my jaw to keep from saying something rude. She talks about how fast the damn train moves and my stomach gets queasy. I'm not a big fan of this _car,_ how am I supposed to survive the train?

At the train station Undersee hops out of the car and scurries across to the train, giving a short wave to the cameras before doing so. I think she even smiled. I lock my jaw and march in behind her, sickened by how she's treating this. I almost go to snap at her but the cameras are snapping thousands of photos of us. I remain unaffected. Don't let them win. I can't let them win.

Effie finally slams the metal door shut and pushes us into the train. There's too much to take in all at once and I realize I'm frozen to the spot. It's… it's indescribable. The way the chairs stand with their elaborate designs, the colors that vibrate around us. "Isn't it lovely?" Effie sighs, scurrying past us. "I love how they treat you, it's so wonderful even if it's just for a little while."

"Wonderful," I hear Undersee mutter under her breath. The fact that it wasn't meant to be heard makes me laugh and then she snaps her head to me. Her eyes meet mine and I realize how empty she looks, how she must be hurting just as much as I'm trying not to. I think I'm just acting strange because I don't know how else to act, if we're being serious. I can't cry, I don't _want _to cry. I'm not excited. I'm not really scared either, not now anyway. She finally drops her gaze and follows Effie who's still talking about how lovely the train is.

"This one, Madge dear, is your room," she motions to a door. "Gale, dear," I hear Undersee swallow, "this is yours." Our rooms are directly across from each other and I nod sharply, walking past Effie without a word and forcing my way into my room. I hear Undersee say a thank you to Effie and then her door shuts loudly. I sigh and lean against my door, listening hard to see if I can hear anything else about the train. The only sound I hear is the hum the train makes as it glides over the tracks.

I slam my head against the metal of the door, what am I going to do? I squeeze my eyes shut and see Posy which immediately forces them open again. Was it only moments ago she was telling me how much she loved me? The train's already moving. I decide to look around the room to calm my nerves. Alright, there, I'm nervous. But there's nothing I can do to stop it, I won't linger on the details.

The bed is huge and has this sickening green color on it which I'm guessing is the comforter. The only green I prefer is the kind in the woods and this is _not_ a green you would even find in the natural world. The rest of the room is all fancy, pictures hanging on the walls. I glance at myself in the mirror and rub at my eyes. I still look like myself. Now all I have to do is _stay_ myself. How do I go into arena and kill other helpless people? I kill animals, not humans. Is it any different? Again I'm rubbing at my face.

"Supper!" Effie's voice chimes through my door. I don't know if I want to change or not and I rifle through the clothes in the drawers. They're all really nice, honestly. Soft silk shirts and sturdy khakis, but they smell like soap and I smell like coal and smoke. Right now I prefer the latter. I hear a door slide open and considering it isn't mine I figure it's Undersee's. I don't know how to talk to her, what to say. Do I even want to? Maybe I should just pretend like she doesn't exist, that might work out best for the both of us.

Does she even want to talk to me? Again I groan because I keep thinking about what _she_ wants. I close my eyes and Katniss appears, so I force them open again. I decide not to change and then I slowly leave my room. I don't want to wash that layer of Seam off yet, I'll need the reminder of home to get me through this. I'll explore later, take a hot shower. Sounds nice.

I make my way to the dining area where Undersee sits talking with Effie about the Reaping. "Yes," she says, "I was very shocked." I watch for a moment as she places both her hands on her lap and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly. She's still shaking.

"I'll bet," Effie says, "being the mayor's daughter and all! Oh, if that doesn't make a story I don't know what will. You must be so proud to represent your District, though."

"Mmm," Undersee trills, finally opening her eyes and smiling brightly at Effie. I know she's not happy to be here, how could she be? It must be to stay on Trinket's good side. That always works. This must be part of her strategy of how to get out alive.

"The Capitol will love you, dear. The boy's the one we have to worry about…" Effie trails off and reaches for her glass to take a drink of whatever's in it. Undersee's eyes dart in my direction but she doesn't turn to acknowledge me. A sly grin crosses her face at Effie's remark proving she knew I was there. How did she know I was there?

"I think he'll be fine," Undersee continues, despite knowing I'm only a few feet away. "Everyone loves a good sulky handsome boy."

"I'm not sulky," I jab quickly, and her smile widens again. Damnit, she won this one, pulling me into the conversation I had only wanted to listen to. She knows it too, I can tell by the way she sits up in her chair even straighter.

"Oh, Gale!" Effie beams. "Please, please sit!" I lumber over slowly, narrowing my eyes at Undersee who licks her lips after taking a sip of something. "How do you like your room?"

"It's different," I mutter.

"I think mine's lovely," Undersee says brightly. I should probably start calling her Madge sooner or later, but it feels wrong in my mouth. Besides, it's best if I don't talk to her. I don't know where we even stand and it doesn't help the chance of us having to kill each other in the next couple of weeks is high. "I love it."

"Probably just like home," I snap. "Isn't it?" That's better. Feels like old times.

"Nothing like it, actually," she says quietly. "That's why I like it." My eyes narrow in her direction and I study her as she waits for the food to be served. Her hands are still shaking; she hasn't changed out of her white dress yet. She looks tired. Her eyes are a deeper blue than I've ever witnessed before. There's a small bruise on her upper forearm I swear wasn't there before the Reaping. Some of her hair has fallen out of the ribbon that holds it back.

"What's that?" I point toward her pin that I noticed early.

"Family heirloom," is all she says in response.

"It's Madge's token," Effie chimes in, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. "Isn't that what you told me, dear?" She nods back and Effie smiles sweetly at her. I clench my fists, I don't have a token.

"I know _that_, but what _is _it?"

"Oh," Undersee finally looks back up at me. "It's a mockingjay." A mockingjay, it's like she's writing her death certificate. A mockingjay is a bird the Capitol never wanted to create but they're all over the place now. Can spit back tunes in the most beautifully terrifying ways. I can bet all the money in the world Undersee's never even heard one sing before. I've heard them a few times. Katniss liked to whistle to them.

My heart aches when I think of Katniss again. I think back to when I first saw her and all these different emotions pounded at my soul like I was supposed to just pick one. I love her, I do, but how? Like a sister? Like something more than a friend? I don't know, I never did. She never wanted to marry, to have kids. She's my hunting partner, but that's it I think. I never thought about my feelings for her because I didn't think I really had any. There's no use in thinking about them anymore anyway considering I won't be seeing her again. With that though I squeeze my eyes shut. I've got to think like a Career.

"Gale," Undersee waves her hand in front of my face. "Are you alright?" I must've zoned out.

"Fine," I mutter back. She drops her eyes from me instantly and returns back to Effie. I'm not really fine though, am I?

After we finish our meal we make our way to a television to watch the rest of the Reapings. Undersee sits next to me on the couch with her legs up and off to the side. Her knee touches my leg but I'm not sure if she notices. I make a point to scoot a bit away from her and she peels back to her side of the couch, muttering a sorry under her breath. Effie takes the arm chair near us and we flick the TV on.

I tell myself that I'm ready for this, but the second the Capitol emblem flashes on the screen I know that I'm not. Basically all of the people I'm about to see will be dead. They're just as helpless as I am. I try to keep my thoughts calm but it doesn't help that the first volunteer, a girl named Glimmer from District 1, is very attractive and blows kisses at the cameras. I find myself smiling but instantly wipe it from my face. Undersee notices and scoffs before crossing her arms.

"She looks like you, Madge!" Effie smiles brightly. "Maybe you two will get along!"

"Wonderful," she says in response, an empty echo left in her voice. After that there's only a few people that stick out to me. The guy from District 2, Cato. A girl from District 5 whose name evades me. A twelve year old girl from District 11. Rue. And the boy that follows, Thresh. "Oh no," I hear Undersee whisper when the girl takes the stage. The camera makes a point of flashing back to her younger siblings, all with teary eyes. Rue must be the oldest, and yet still so young.

Finally it's our own reaping and I cringe when they call Undersee's name. Effie makes a point of telling her how proud she is of Undersee's posture and how well she took the stage. She also makes a point of talking about how frustrated she is that her own wig was off balance thanks to Haymitch.

"Where is Haymitch anyway?" I ask, my eyes scanning the room. I haven't seen him since he face planted off the stage.

"Who cares," Undersee replies. "Probably drunk. He's always drunk."

"He's our mentor," I grumble. "He's got to keep us alive, Undersee."

"Yeah well even _you_ should know that he's just a drunk," she shoots back angrily.

"That he is," Effie frowns worriedly. "Oh, look Gale, dear. It's you!" Effie does a wonderful job at changing the subject. My eyes flicker back to the screen where I march to the stage, my brow furrowed and angry. Good. I look pissed. "You look so…" she trails off and Undersee brings her hand up to stop herself from snorting.

"Yes, Gale," she chimes in. "You look thrilled." I lock my jaw and let them continue their giggles, not acknowledging their existence. As the show ends someone stumbles into the room. It takes me a moment to realize that the person with unruly hair that sways with the train is in fact, Haymitch.

"I miss supper?" he slurs, causing Undersee to suck in a sharp breath. "Maysilee what the hell're you doing here?"

"Haymitch," Effie crosses her arms angrily. "That is _no_ way to treat your new tributes."

"New tributes?" his eyes dart between us. "But she," he points toward Undersee who looks away instantly. Then he laughs, "Oh this'll be _great_. Two more useless kids. Dead on the first day."

"Come on," Undersee suddenly stands up and charges toward him. "I got him," she mutters to me and Effie. "Back to your room before you vomit all over the place." I watch as she pulls him gently away from the room and wait there until I hear a door shut a few minutes later. She's already won over the District escort, and now she'll win over the mentor too. I clench my fists, she must really have a reason to get home. But what?

"Do they know each other?" I ask Effie who shrugs and glances at her nails. "Who's Maysilee?"

"I'm not sure, Gale, maybe you should ask her. You two are friends after all."

I go to tell Effie that we aren't friends. We aren't friends at all. But a voice cuts me off, "Ask me what?" Undersee walks almost as quietly as me; I didn't even realize she was back in the room. Her face is pale and her hair is fully out of the ribbon now. In fact, I don't even know where the ribbon is. Lost somewhere on the train I bet. Her dress is also slightly shifted like she struggled to get Haymitch to bed. "Haymitch puked," she mutters when she notices me studying her. "Barely missed me."

"Repulsive," Effie shudders. "You should've just gotten an attendant, dear. That's their job, anyway." Undersee shrugs and tries to straighten her dress out. "Don't worry you two, I'll help with the sponsors. He's not very good at it but everyone likes me."

"Sounds great," Undersee says happily, although it doesn't quite reach her face. She's a little upset over whatever Haymitch said. I'll bet he said even more once she got him to his room.

"Anyway, dear, who's Maysilee?" Effie asks brightly. "And how long have you known your mentor! I had no i_dea_!"

"I don't know him," she says quietly, dropping her gaze to the ground. Then she turns on her back heel and makes her way out of the room. "And it doesn't matter who Maysilee is."

* * *

_A/N: What kind of Madge is your favorite? Quiet or fierce? Maybe a mix of both? Thanks to all who subscribed or reviewed! You're the reason I write! I really like writing this story and taking my own twist on the original. I hope I'm doing it justice. Leave your thoughts._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: You burn it.**

* * *

I thought I'd wake up before Undersee but that doesn't seem to be the case. I can hear her nagging voice even with my door shut. She rambles on and on about drinking and I rub the sleep, or well lack of, off of my face. I managed to get a few hours of shuteye before I had a nightmare about Posy being forced into the Games. I had to watch as she got her neck snapped by the vicious boy from District 2 and I woke in a sweat. I stumble to the mirror and curse the bags under my eyes, making my way to the bathroom to splash my face with cold water.

Effie said we'll be arriving in the Capitol today and that means we meet our prep teams. "They're quite lovely," she told me last night. "They're going to make you even more ruggedly handsome than you already are." Not going to complain with that one.

I force my way into the bright lights of the hall and groan, leaning against the wall to listen to their conversation. "So you stay away from the bottle or I swear to God, Haymitch,"

"For the thousandth time, Undersee," he snaps back. "I was _drunk_." He's talking about Maysilee, the name that he called her last night. Again I wonder who she is, maybe I'll even ask considering I'll be sharing living quarters with Undersee for the next few days. I've got to learn to tolerate her until the Games, then someone will get rid of her and I won't have to. Wait, that's not what I want either.

"And it won't happen again because you won't be drinking," Undersee hisses. Hearing her angry is always fun, it's a lot different than the quiet she normally is. Seeing her have attitude, there's just something I like about it. There's a pause and a clinking of metal onto plate as they shovel some food into their mouths. "I want you to get him sponsors."

"I don't think I can do that, sweetheart."

"Put the bottle down," Undersee growls. I hear the slosh of a liquid and Haymitch snickers. "Gale needs to get out of that arena. Listen to me, he hunts. He's strong, he's demanding, he's got the looks, the abilities…" Why is she talking me up? I mean she's right, I'm all of those things, but why is _she_ the one to tell him when it should be me?

"You seem to know a lot about him," I can almost hear him raising his eyebrows at her. She's quiet for awhile after that, probably pulling at the tips of her hair like she always does when she's nervous.

"Someone's got to come home, haven't they?"

"Yeah, and why can't it be you?" Another pause, probably so she can pull her hair again. Her eyes are mostly likely on the floor, her cheeks probably pink. "Why are you so bent this?" Haymitch asks, the bottle slamming against the table. I squint and edge closer to the room. "Undersee I'm not looking to…"

"I have nothing to go back to!" she cries out sadly, I flinch when her voice cracks. "I'm not good at anything there's nothing for me to back to it's pointless. So help him, alright?"

"Undersee you're plenty good at,"

"Dodging objects and hiding?" she cuts him off. "Yeah that's going to get me out of the arena. Someone's got to come home; I'd rather it be him than a Career again. He's a fighter, Haymitch. If you would sober up maybe you'd see that," she mutters. I hear the scraping of her chair and then her footsteps stomping away. "I'm going to check on Effie." After that Haymitch sighs.

"Well you already heard her," he says loudly. "Might as well come out to breakfast." I know that he's talking to me despite me not being in the room. "I said come _out_, boy." Finally my feet carry me to the table and I look at the drunk who currently isn't drunk. "What she said about hunting, that true?" Instead of answering him I reach for some toast and drag it into my plate. "You look like a typical Seam boy to me," he tells me, shoveling food around his plate. "Nothing special. Why should I help you?"

"You don't have to help me," I growl at him. "I can do it myself. I'll have to in the arena anyway, won't I?" Haymitch rolls his eyes and reaches for the bottle again.

"You want to do it yourself then fine," he scowls at me. "Do it yourself. I plan to get the girl out anyway."

"Can't get someone out if they don't want to get out," I tell him, thinking about her words of fire. How she wanted to get _me_ sponsors and not _us_ or _her_. But _me_. Undersee's far too smart to just give up, though. She's working an angle. Pity angle? I've seen her in school, she always has the highest test grades and whatnot. She's got to be formulating a plan of some sort. Maybe she knows she's too quiet to win people over, that I'll have to do it. All the money to District 12 can go to either me _or_ her. Or both if Abernathy wants to split it or something. His eyes lock with mine and he quirks his eyebrows, looking behind me. A few moments later Undersee stalks back into the compartment where he had been looking, Effie on her trail with a sparkling new outfit and her face painted in some elaborate design. Effie sits on the couch and flicks the TV on while Undersee comes back to sit with us. She's wearing some strange shirt that shows off her shoulders but still has sleeves, it looks like it's made of silk. Her hair's tied back in a messy bun, loose pieces of hair tumbling down and forced behind her ears. If I didn't know any better it would look like someone made her up to dress like this, but I know that's not true. She just looks like that, perfectly crafted at all times.

"Morning," she says quietly, sitting next to me and picking at her plate again. I ignore her and continue eating. I've never had food this good with the exception of last night. If I could I'd eat it all. She swirls her finger around in some sort of mug and then sucks on it, repeating the process a few times instead of just drinking from it.

"Eat something," Haymitch tells her. Her eyes snap up and lock with his and he makes a face at her, causing her to drop her gaze. "You'll need to put on some muscle for the Games." Instead of protesting like earlier, Undersee just nudges food around her plate. "We'll be there soon, Undersee. Just get something in your stomach, alright? They'll be working on you all morning."

"Sure," she says back, yet still doesn't eat anything. She's already given up I can hear it in her voice. The thought should put something inside me to rest, but it doesn't. It makes me angry. There's no doubt in my mind she'll get sponsors just based on her looks, don't forget her powerful father either. She's stronger than half the people going in considering she's always had food on the table and a brain that thinks things through. I even heard she was on the track team at school. Her odds aren't exactly tragic.

"Okay," Haymitch turns to both of us. "At the Capitol you're going to meet your stylists, but before that is the prep team." I avert my eyes from Undersee sucking on her pointer finger and turn toward Haymitch. I don't miss the knowing smirk he gives me. "They're brutal, but just do what they want, alright? No objections, just do it. Lay there quiet and let them do whatever they want. Especially the stylists."

"But what if," I start but Undersee kicks me from under the table.

"Just listen to him," she mutters. "He got out, didn't he?"

"He's also a drunk," I snap at her, thinking back to her words last night. She raises an eyebrow and looks toward Haymitch who sips at his coffee.

"Not right now, it would appear. Not if he doesn't keep drinking," she reaches forward and snatches the bottle from the table that was right next to his mug, and places it out of reach.

"Bit of a hangover actually," Haymitch says with an attitude. "So I'd appreciate it if you weren't so loud, boy."

"So what happens when they come up to me with a razor and want to shave all my hair off?" I hiss. "I just let them?"

"They won't do that," Undersee says quietly, pushing herself away from the table. "You have nice hair." I keep my eyes downcast on my plate until she's out of the room and I hear her door slide shut. Where does she keep going? I groan and drop my head into my hands.

"You two friends?" Haymitch raises an eyebrow. I can already see it now, the taunting and harassment he'll give both of us while we're with him.

"No," I snap. "Not exactly."

"Shame," he shrugs, stroking his chin. "She likes your hair." I lock my jaw and the elder cackles, leaning back in his chair. "Lighten up, Hawthorne. Want to know how you get out of the Games? You get people to like you. Everyone likes Undersee, she's tragic by all circumstances considering her father is the mayor. Add in the fact that she looks like a model and she's got sponsors right off the bat. But you?" he shakes his head. "I thought you wanted to get home."

"I thought you weren't helping me," I jab back, slamming a fist on the table. He's right. I need sponsors.

"You're the one that didn't want my help, boy."

"If you're going to be a hassle then please, don't bother." I go to push myself away from breakfast but Haymitch wraps his ankle around my chair from under the table. My elbows collide with the table and I grunt, looking up at him angrily.

He slides a knife toward me. "Throw it."

I've thrown knifes a few time but they're not my specialty. I'm better than Katniss was, that's for sure, but it's not exactly the easiest task. Especially on a moving train. "I don't," I start to say but he shakes his head.

"Throw it," he says again. "I have to see what I'm working with."

I smirk, reaching for the knife slowly, "Where do you want it, Abernathy?" I can think of plenty of places to send it flying, mainly his face.

"Surprise me," he shoots back with a grin. "Or are you too weak?" I yank it from the table and angrily fling it across the room without looking where it'll land. It lodges it into the wall nearest the adjoining car as Undersee walks back in. Her eyes go wide and she stands still. "If you wanted to hit her you'll need to work on your aim."

"Funny," Undersee says, her voice quick and high. She wipes at her face and I realize that's what she went to go do. Splash cold water on her face. Just like I had when I woke up. She goes to take a step back and glances where I threw. She's obviously unnerved by how easily the knife stuck in the wall. She should be.

"Stand up," Haymitch orders, and I push myself from the seat. "Undersee, get over here." She walks quickly and stands next to me. I take the moment to absorb how much shorter she is than me. About the same height Katniss was, so not too bad. Maybe about a head shorter. I look down and see another bruise on her shoulder. How rough were the Peacekeepers with her? "I know you're good at something," he points to her, tapping his chin.

"Piano," I say absentmindedly. Her cheeks flush as she looks up at me, and then snaps her gaze back to Haymitch.

"Oh yeah, Hawthorne? That's nice, I'm glad you know that," Haymitch drawls. "That's really going to save her life."

"Haymitch I already said," she starts, but he cuts her off quickly.

"Don't be stupid, princess. Don't act stupid, stop the nonsense. Are you telling me that you're going to go into the arena and just step off your plate early?" She shakes her head timidly. "Walk straight into the bloodbath?" Again she shakes her head. "Exactly. You're going to fight. I _know_ you, Undersee." I look down again at her as she nibbles her bottom lip. How do they know each other? "You're going to fight just as hard as he is," he jabs his finger at me. "Aren't you?" She tips her head slowly and then gnaws the inside of her cheek. It reminds me of Rory. "Because you want to show them all that you're better than they thought." Her cheeks flush again as she stares at her feet, he's hit the nail on the head with that one. I drop my eyes to study her once again, I never considered Undersee as a self conscious person. Apparently, however, she is. And she wants to win, to show everyone that she's not as helpless as they think. As _I_ think.

"We're here!" Effie squeals from the couch. "Look, look!" I glance down at Undersee who can't help but press on her toes, leaning back so she can get her own glimpse.

"You should look," she tells me quietly. "It's really nice." Haymitch watches the exchange then reaches over the counter, taking the bottle Undersee moved away from him. Of course she would've seen the Capitol before, her father works for them. Slowly she makes her way to the window, leaning on the windowsill and smiling sadly. A loud whir is what finally gets me to walk across to her. The crowd cheering below. She waves at them and blows a few kisses.

"Stop that," I hiss at her. I go to say something else but then my eyes catch on the Capitol. The glistening white buildings. The vibrant citizens that cheer at us. "Oh my God," I lean on the windowsill that she's on and my mouth drops open.

"Good, now smile," she says gently, continuing to wave. The reds and greens and blues and purples all mash together in a giant rainbow in my head. There's something different between seeing them on the television and seeing them in person. The way they cheer for us. But I won't smile, I can't smile. My jaw still hangs open. My eyes dart everywhere trying to absorb as much as I can. It's like when I first stepped on the train, it's indescribable. There's too much going on all at once and finally the train pulls into a dark alcove. Undersee reaches up and pushes my mouth shut with a smirk.

I push myself away from the window and lock my jaw instantly, "Don't touch me. Don't act like… like we're friends."

She sighs, "Alright, Gale." She pulls her hands into her lap and looks away from me.

"Because we're not," I force out, stumbling over my words.

"I said alright," she mumbles, also pushing herself away from the window. She sulks past me and makes her way toward Effie who's bouncing on her toes with excitement.

"Nice one, Hawthorne," Haymitch laughs. "You'll both be dead within the next two weeks and you can't even act like a decent person around her. She's just trying to have fun." Haymitch too walks toward Effie and places his hand gently on Undersee's back. She shoves it off and follows Effie off the train where she's swarmed with cameras. A smile is forced on her face instantly, if I hadn't just scolded her there's no way I'd be able to tell it was fake. I wonder if all her smiles have been like that.

* * *

I've been laying here for five hours. Five hours while these creatures scrape at my skin. I haven't even met my stylist yet. Not sure I want to, honestly. I'm quite entertained by the chick with purple hair, however. Her name's Aelia and she's quite enjoying the fact that I have to stand here naked. Her skin's soft white, ghost like, and her eyelashes are long and glittery. "Not your fault you're so dirty," she coos, scraping at my back with some metal brush thing. "You'll look even better once all the coal's off of you." Her accent is driving me crazy, like she's still in primary school and hasn't learned how to speak properly yet.

"You can see Portia when we're finished this last cleansing," Vius, the only male in the group, tells me through gritted teeth. At least, I think he's a male. He has short springy hair that rolls up his head in curls, bright orange ringing from them. His finger nails are long and filed, painted the same color.

The other person on my prep team is quiet, she doesn't talk much. Her hair is long and brown, trailing down her back in a strange pointy fashion. Where it should curl it juts awkwardly. The tips of it are a deep green, contrasting with the purple tint of her skin. Her name's Prisca and the only thing she said to me was: "Repulsive."

Of course, Aelia went off rambling how _I_ wasn't repulsive, just my District was. Because that's so much better. "There," Aelia smiles. "All clean."

"Finally," Prisca mumbles under her breath. My skin hurts. They don't care about pain, obviously, just about looks. "I'll get Portia." She exits the room and Aelia sighs, sitting down across from me.

"Sorry," her _accent_, I swear to _God_. "She's never liked District 12." A few moments later the woman I can only assume to be Portia saunters in the room with a smile, tipping her head toward the door. "See you later, Gale," Aelia smiles and waves. Vius giggles and bounces on his heels, God is he even male? Then he pushes Aelia out of the room.

Portia walks around my body and taps at her chin. As she examines me I examine her. Must be new, newer anyway. I don't remember seeing her on the television. "I'm Portia," she says softly. Her accent isn't as defined at the others. She has straight short yellow hair that curls outward at her shoulders. Bangs are cut straight across her forehead and she reaches to the table, yanking off a pair of shorts and tossing them at me.

"Gale," I say back, stepping into the cloth carefully. She nods and smiles.

"A lot taller than I expected," she says, "but that's okay. Your outfit will be modified, it'll fit just fine." I sigh in relief as I realize I won't be going stark naked. That happened one year, the tributes covered in nothing but coal dust. Didn't go over with the crowd very well. "Don't worry, you'll be clothed."

"Thank God for that," I say.

"Sorry about Aelia," she smirks, holding her thumb out like she's measuring how a picture would be hung on a wall. "She's a little…" Portia trails off and makes a face.

I laugh, "Just a little." Portia slinks gracefully into a seat and motions for me to follow. I take the one across the room from her. She's not like most of the stylists I've seen on TV, more reserved, less risky. "Are you new to the Games?"

"Oh, yes," she nods. "It's been a dream of mine to design for the Games."

"Sorry you got 12," I mutter.

She smiles, "I'm not." There's a pause in the conversation as she studies me while I study her. She's young, probably only a few years older than me. "I'm sorry that you had to be Reaped," she says quietly. "I know it was your last year." the way her voice cracks sounds so sincere I decide to believe that she actually cares. I shrug effortlessly and she blinks a few times. "No matter, I'm going to give you a great head start. I can tell you're a fighter, it's in your eyes. The sponsors are going to be tripping over one another to get you home."

"And why's that, if you don't mind me asking?"

She licks her lips and grins, "Are you friendly with your District partner?"

"No," I snap immediately, my eyebrows contorting into a scowl. Why should Undersee be any concern as to the sponsors _I'll_ be getting? Portia's smile falters but she recovers quickly.

"No matter," her lips are taught. "Cinna's going to make her beautiful, of course. I peaked," she tells me. Cinna must be Undersee's stylist. "Madge, is it?" I keep my gaze locked with hers, I know what she's doing. She's trying to get me to talk about my life. About anything. "Very pretty." I scratch at my head and squint my eyes at her.

"Right,"

"Right," Portia jeers after me. "No matter," she says again. Is that her catch phrase? She pushes herself out of the chair and walks to a small table in the back of the room, lifting up a sketch book. "I've been designing it for ages, I got the idea late one night while I was with a friend and it just stuck." She carries it back over to me. "Here's what you'll be wearing."

"A black suit," I mutter. How inspiring and creative and original. She's right, sponsors will _love_ it. "Lovely."

"Well it has to reflect your District, correct?" I nod and take it out of her hands, studying it closer. The shoulders are strange and it looks suffocating. How the hell am I supposed to fit into that? It's bound to be tight and itchy. "Well there's the black for the coal," she points to the page, leaning over my shoulder as I gaze at the image. She turns it in her hands to the next one and smiles as a red and orange mass bubble out from the drawing. "And there's the fire."

"The _what_?"

"Well you don't just leave coal to sit around, do you?" she asks, crossing her arms. A taunting smile plays at her lips. "You burn it."

* * *

_A/N: Chariot ride next chapter ~ Enjoy!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: The Opening Ceremonies.**

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"No," I hear Undersee's voice before I even see her. "No, God no." I snap my head and find her in her opening ceremony outfit. It matches mine. "Are you _kidding_?" She turns to the man I can only assume to be Cinna. My assumption is confirmed when she angrily mutters his name.

"Portia and I talked it over," he says in a silky smooth voice. I've never seen a Capitol citizen like him. If I thought Portia was under the radar then he's not even on it. The only sign of Capitol presence on him is a dash of golden eyeliner. He reaches over and tugs a strand of her loose hair out of her face and pushes it behind her ear. "Nothing wrong with a little District unity."

"No one else matches!" I stride over to them and jab a finger at him before I can stop myself. Undersee turns away as I get closer. The only thing I've noticed about her so far is her outfit. Because it's identical to mine. "Are you insane?" He smiles softly at me and pushes my hand down.

"I heard you had a temper, Gale, but I didn't think you'd be _this_ hostile." Undersee snickers and Cinna retains his smile at me. "Don't worry, you two won't be matching for long. You and Madge are too different to be completely the same. You'll see." I raise an eyebrow at them but Undersee shrugs. Even his speech is cryptic. I wonder how on earth Undersee spent the entire day with him. It's only been a few minutes and I'm already sick of him. Cinna pulls her away, resting his hand on her shoulder. "Go kill em," he tells her. She nods nervously and drops her gaze to the ground. I can't help but notice his poor choice of words.

"Last minute modifications work out alright with you?" Portia calls to Cinna as she strides over to us. She's changed into something fire-y. Most likely to support her prized tribute. Which would be me.

"Swimmingly," Cinna replies. "I think what we've done is going to make it ten times better." Portia nods with a grin and escorts me away from them.

"I told you I wasn't friendly with her!" I snap at Portia, who only keeps her smile calm. She and Cinna must be friends. "And what last minute modifications? All you said was I'd have a flaming cape and…"

"Gale, _we're_ the stylists," she cuts me off gently. "Trust us on this one, please, and don't be so nervous." I lock my jaw and she shoves me toward the carriage. I'm not nervous. "From what you told me about Madge it didn't seem right to give her the same fire as you. You're too different." I barely spoke about Undersee, Portia was the one who pried. How I knew her, what she was like. It was infuriating. "You two are going to steal the show."

"Portia," I grunt, "I don't like this."

"And I don't like your attitude," she cheers back lightly. I frown and clench my fists, remembering what Haymitch said. _Just do what they want_. I release my fingers and sigh, I have to do whatever Portia says. But then she drops the bomb, "I want you and her to hold hands."

"You're both insane," I conclude with a nod. She laughs and guides me to the carriage. Instead of telling her I won't hold Undersee's hand I change the subject, "So where's the fire?" I ask, crossing my arms. "Don't want to fry us until we start rolling?"

"With an _attitude_ like that I might just let you burn," she teases lightly. "I know you don't want to, but I've been living in the Capitol my entire life, Gale. I know what sponsors want to see. Something they've never seen before. Hold her hand."

"I won't," I hiss as I climb the ladder to stand.

"We'll see," she says back gently, looking toward Undersee who climbs up the opposite side of the carriage. Cinna pats her lovingly on the back before pushing her up the last step. Once she's next to me and I finally get a good glimpse of her, I can't stop myself. "What'd they do to your _hair_?" She looks up to me and her eyes widen, her hands fiddling nervously in front of her. "I mean, it doesn't look bad," I add quickly, "it's just not you." Undersee always looks better with her hair down. Now, however, it's pinned up in some elaborate fashion, swirling around the top of her head in strange and entrancing curls. And really, it doesn't look bad. It's just so… Capitol. Her face, however, is lightly dusted with makeup, causing her to naturally glow. A light tint of blue is spread over her eyes and it glitters as she blinks. It takes some effort to look away.

"Well they didn't want it to burn," she mutters back. Thankfully she makes no note of my hair, the way it's slicked back and styled to what Portia deemed perfection. "Cinna wants us to hold hands."

"So does Portia," I mumble. All of a sudden Haymitch's words echo in my head again. _No objections, just do it_. No, I won't stoop so low as to hold hands with Undersee. I can't. I won't. Everyone'll be watching. _Everyone_.

"Here we go!" Cinna says from behind us. "Don't look back!" I watch Undersee squirm from the corner of my eye as she grips her own hands firmly trying to calm her nerves.

I hear a few clicks and then a gust of wind, my back heats up instantly. Out of panic I reach for Undersee's hand. My hand bumps hers and I realize she was reaching for mine too. Her eyes dart to the gesture and she looks back up at me. "Ah, yes, that's the spirit," Cinna says happily. "Chins up!" Undersee's jaw drops like she's going to say something but I twist my hand in hers so our fingers intertwine, effectively silencing whatever she was about to say. She turns back to face the front. "They worked," Cinna sighs to Portia as if we can't hear. The carriage starts to roll.

"Can you see them?" Undersee whispers weakly.

"I'm not looking," I grit back. Her hand in mine is reassuring because, honestly, I'm scared out of my mind. The crowd, the fire, the combination of everything is making my skin squirm. Her hand feels strange, the soft skin and delicate fingers from playing the piano encased in my now barely calloused hand from whatever my prep team made me soak in. Tiny. She's so fragile. Breakable. But her hand is warm and it gets me to stop thinking about the flames that threaten my very life before the Games even begin.

"I'm terrified of fire," Undersee whispers. Her chest rises rapidly like she's going to start hyperventilating. "I even told him that but he didn't care. I couldn't stop him either because Haymitch said we just had to deal."

"Yeah, well," she grips my hand tighter. "Don't pass out on me, alright?"

"No promises," she says back. Our carriage reaches the beginning of the tunnel. The walls around us are illumined from our flames but I can't look back yet. If I do I'm scared I'll actually start burning. Her hand readjusts in mine.

"Undersee," I mutter.

"I'm going to pass out," she says. "Oh God, I'm going to pass out." I take a quick look at her face from the corner of my eye and she's gone completely pale, her eyes widened as we near the end of the tunnel that takes us out to the crowd. Then I'm laughing. "Gale!" she turns to me and then I laugh even harder. "It's not funny!"

"You should see your face!" Before I know it I'm in hysterics and some of the color's returning to her cheeks. Not once in my life have I ever seen Undersee this terrified, not even when she was Reaped.

"You're rude," she says, pressing the smile back on her face. Her body still shakes and her eyes are still filled with panic, but at least now she's smiling.

"Just trying to keep a pleasant face on for the crowd," I joke, but I'm instantly drowned out. The cheers. The screams. It's deafening, a continuous roar of noise that swallows all my thoughts. And then I hear Undersee giggling like a maniac and waving to everyone. I realize my face is still pressed into the laugh I was sharing with her. I look toward her and she smiles encouragingly. Grudgingly I lift my hand to wave as well, and the crowd eats it up. My name's shouted from the rooftops, from the stands, from the ground. It's echoing off the buildings, it's pounding around my head. I laugh, never in my life have I felt so alive, and then Madge squeezes my hand lightly. Oh, damnit. I just called her… "Look!" she points to the screens where we're being shown off to the Capitol, to the world. "Oh my God, that's us!" she's grinning so wide her cheeks must hurt. I am too. I can't help it.

The flames that trail behind her aren't harsh and red, they're soft, yellows and whites and blues. I think it suits Undersee, that's more like it, better than dark angry ones would anyway. They're like a firefly or a candle. Mine, however. Mine are red. Mine are dark maroon and scowling orange and the contrast between the two of us keeps my lips tugged upward. It's perfect. Cinna and Portia have captured our distinct separate personalities perfectly while at the same time making us united. No one else shines, no one else is linked. We are one, we're unstoppable. The rest of the way to the President on his balcony is filled with roses being tossed in our direction. We've stolen the show. Portia was right, our stylists have given us the perfect head start to the Games.

* * *

As we stand in the carriage waiting for Portia and Cinna to come find us, Undersee's hand drops from mine. She stretches it like she's trying to get feeling back and gives me a weak smile. "Thanks," she says gently. I shrug and rub my own hand. "I told you they wouldn't cut off your hair."

"Yeah well tell them to leave yours down next time," I reach up and tug at a loose strand much as Cinna had earlier. "Looks better."

"Right," she says quietly, turning away from me and brushing the piece behind her ear. I pull my hand away and silently curse myself. She glances around and her eyes trail to the little girl from District 11 who's been staring at us. The girl drops her eyes instantly. "She's so innocent," Undersee whispers, dragging her gaze away and back to me. "This is sick," she shakes her head. "She's only twelve."

"Don't," I mumble, jerking my head to look at where Haymitch, Effie and the two stylists practically skip toward us. "Later, okay?" She nods and looks down at the stylists.

"You two," Effie gushes, "were phenomenal! Everyone I passed was talking about it! You stole the show! The way Madge's fire was so light and whimsical and Gale's was so daring and bold, oh my," she sighs and places her hand on her forehead. I hop off the carriage without help and reach up to help Undersee down. "Absolutely phenomenal!" Undersee blushes as Effie continues to talk about how everyone raved about us and how we're already on the map for sponsors.

"Thanks," Undersee says to me again once she's firmly on the ground. I force a smile and nod politely at her, I should take Haymitch's advice. She's never been awful to me, why should I be awful to her? We've only got a handful of days left anyway. She snorts and her hand travels up to cover her face. "God, Gale, would it kill you to smile for once?"

"Yes," Haymitch replies for me. "It would. You know, Cinna," Haymitch changes the subject and turns to the dark skinned man. "What was that you did with Undersee's flames? Blue?"

"Indeed," Cinna smiles, throwing his arm around his tribute. "Madge doesn't have the angry scowl Gale does, destruction doesn't suit her." I snort at his comment and Portia shoots me a smile. "Blue flames are hotter than red flames anyway," he says gently. "Very mystical," he tells her. "You looked wonderful."

"Thank you," she flushes.

"Didn't she Gale?" Cinna looks up toward me. I lock his eyes and his smile widens. "Of course she did." Undersee drops her gaze to the ground when I don't answer and starts walking off toward the elevators. He's right, she looked wonderful. But why should I be the one to tell her? Cinna already did that, as did Effie and Haymitch indirectly. Now we're going to go upstairs and watch the replays and hear even more people rave over her. Why should my opinion matter? It shouldn't. I don't need to tell Undersee that the flares brought out the flickers of silver in her eyes or made her skin shine brightly. I don't need to tell her Cinna captured her quiet mysterious personality perfectly, how the take on the flames that he took couldn't have been more suiting. Someone else will.

I follow slowly behind them and I don't overlook the fact that everyone's staring at us. Everyone. "Undersee," I mutter. She turns slowly and slows her pace. "Wait up." Once I reach her we walk again, the group of four adults a tad behind us. "They're all staring at us."

"I know," she says back. "We outshined them."

"Literally," I murmur, causing her to laugh. I haven't heard Undersee laugh, not like this. One that just bubbles out of her throat before she can stop it. A real one. It makes me smile briefly but I catch the eyes of the male tribute from District 2 and it drops from my face instantly. "I don't like it."

She shrugs, "And what do you want _me_ to do about it?" She raises an eyebrow and pauses outside the elevators, waiting for Effie to catch up to us. I realize that she had already done what I wanted, waiting for me so I didn't feel secluded, like a target. She knows this, too, and follows Effie with a small smile as she boards the elevator.

"Oh you two, I'm still tingly!" Effie tells us, ushering us onto the elevator with a grin. Undersee makes her way to the corner and fiddles with her hands nervously. I bet she wishes she could pull on the tips of her hair instead. Haymitch and our stylists squeeze onto the elevator as well and I end up a lot closer to her than I wanted to be. She stands tall and pretends not to notice our proximity to each other but I hear her breath catch in her throat. "Because you're from District 12 you get the pent house," Effie says brightly. "Highest floor! Just hit 12," she clicks the button on the panel and we start shooting up rapidly, "and up you go!" I cling to the bar tightly and watch as Undersee's eyes follow the action. Noticing this I release my grip a bit, but still hold on just in case.

The floor of the elevator is made of glass, because that's safe. I can see all the people down on the bottom, their heads watching as we rise up to the top floor. Cinna and Portia make small talk to ease the silence of the tense elevator ride on the way up, trying to get Undersee and I involved in the conversation. "Are you over your fear of fire yet?" Cinna asks gently.

Undersee nearly laughs, "Not in the least."

"You might not like the interview dress I'm designing for you then," he shoots back with a smile. The pink from her cheeks drains and her eyes grow wide. "What about you, Gale? Are you afraid of fire?"

"No." And I'm not. Never have been. Nothing to be afraid of.

Portia smirks and rests her hand gently on my shoulder. "Shame I can't put _you_ in a dress," she says. "They can twirl and…" the elevator dings. We've reached our floor.

"Ooh!" Effie rushes out. "Goodness, I just love it!" Haymitch stumbles after her and walks straight to the couch, kicking his feet up on the table with a grunt. Just like when I first stepped on the train and when I first saw the Capitol, I'm speechless. Undersee must be too by the way her steps are slow and hesitant to enter the building. Even this is fancy for her. Tables with curving rolls stacked on top of each other as the legs. Colors I've never seen before, oranges and blues and greens. People in red suits stand awaiting orders. My eyes catch on one whose face is downcast on the floor, she looks familiar but I can't figure out how I know her.

"Who're those people?" I ask to anyone in the room.

"Axoves," Undersee answers for me, her footsteps picking up to follow the others that lead to the couch.

"Brought into a world full of luxuries and the first thing you ask about is the criminals," Haymitch mutters. "Typical."

"Criminals?" my eyes flicker to the one I recognize but I look away quickly because Undersee's watching me. Her eyes trail to the red head and then back to me, asking a question without even saying anything. I know where I remember the girl from. "Where's my room?"

"Oh, where are my manners?" Effie jumps from the couch where she sat patiently and leads us down a hallway. "Madge, dear," she points at a door. Before she even points to mine I know where it is. Directly across from Undersee's. I nod at Effie as nicely as I can, who is thrilled at the _manners_, and push my way into my room. I shut the door as quietly as I can behind me and stride across to the mirror that spans the wall. Just this room is larger than my entire house in the Seam. It's such a contrast. I feel more out of place than I have in my entire life, even more than when I first looked in the mirror after Portia got me dressed. The floor's too clean, the walls too white. It's stylish without being overly frilly, taking all the smooth tones from the Capitol and mixing them with a technological advantage. There's so many buttons and panels I don't even know where to start or what to hit.

Instead I resort to staring at myself in the mirror. I don't look like me. I mean, I do, but I don't. I think back to how I was on the chariots and wonder how people back home saw me. A success? A traitor? What about Katniss? Did she think I was trying to get sponsors or did she think I had fallen into their whimsical trap? The thought of me being whimsical gets me thinking about Undersee and my hand starts to tingle where she gripped it. When I think of Katniss and Undersee at the same time I remember how just a few mornings ago we all stood near each other trading _strawberries_. The thought seems so radical, especially now. I know Katniss and Undersee were friends, or at least they sat together at lunch and were partners in gym. From what I've been told, anyway. I remember how I told Undersee she wouldn't be going to the Capitol and my stomach drops, guilt swarming my senses all over again. I'm going to have to apologize about that sooner or later. If I don't, I'll never forgive myself.

* * *

_A/N: Happy mother's day! What did you like/dislike? Lemme know, I cherish your reviews. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: How can you hate an angel? **

* * *

I rush to the bathroom and peel the black suit from my skin, discarding it somewhere on the floor. It takes awhile considering it's so damn tight, but then I'm free. I peel my underclothes off easily and hop into the shower, tapping something on the wall that shoots a stream of water at me. I yelp when it's too hot and curse when it's too cold. After frantically pounding away on the buttons a steady burst of warm flows at me. Showers are probably one of the best things about this place, and this is the perfect temperature. I sigh and lean against the wall letting the water flow over me, washing off as much of the Capitol as I can. It's temporary, considering they'll be dressing me up for the interview in a few days, but it feels nice to watch the bit of makeup Portia painted on my face wash down the drain.

Even through the multiple walls I hear Effie pounding on my door, calling me to dinner. With one last rake through of my hair I turn the shower off, exiting the room. A burst of air blows down, drying my skin and hair instantly. Not gonna lie, I could get used to this. Everything's so _easy_ here. I yank open a drawer filled with an abundance of clothes and take the first things I see, some khaki pants and a white shirt. It's not me but I'm _starving_.

"Don't you worry, I'll make sure Haymitch signs the papers," Effie is saying when I walk into the room. I'm still buttoning up my shirt when I get there. Undersee's sitting next to Cinna who talks very quietly to her, causing a smile to brighten on her face. She nods and laughs and then the room goes quiet when they spot me. "Gale, dear, you look nice." She smiles and ushers to the seat across from her, next to Portia, and I take it slowly. Undersee goes back to her plate and reaches for a tall glass by her plate, bringing it up to her lips and sipping it slowly as I sit down, her eyes following my every motion. She's changed too, her hair now tumbling freely down her back. She's got on some sort of light blue evening dress that shows off her shoulders and her collarbone and… "Would you like something to drink?" Effie's voice pulls me back up to the conversation.

"What?"

"To drink?" she says again. A boy in a white suit offers me a tray and I pick one at random. Why the hell not? It's the same color as Undersee's drink and I'm guessing she's had it before. Probably at one of her fancy parties. Bound to be good. "Oh, lovely choice," she smiles. "I was just talking about how I'm going to force Haymitch to agree to the sponsor deals I find for you. I mean, everyone likes me and you're sure to get sponsors with your opening splash, or should I say spark!" she laughs at her own joke and Cinna and Portia make a point to look amused. Even Undersee cracks a smile that looks genuine. "But he's the only one that can finish the deal for you so that's the biggest shame."

Haymitch stumbles up to the table with a drink in his hand. "Trinket, the biggest shame is that _you_ never stop rambling. I told you I'd help this year," he mutters, his eyes darting toward Undersee. I'm going to figure out why Haymitch wants her back here if it's the last thing I do. "Alright?" He raises his hand and motions for one of the avoxes to add more to his drink. The girl with red hair I noticed earlier is the one to do so, her eyes flickering up at me for only a moment. I cringe in my seat and look down at my chair. I still remember her screaming. The way she begged for help. Does she remember me? Of course she does, my face is probably imprinted in her brain. I wonder if she'll be relieved when I die, like a sort of revenge for when I watched the boy she was with get speared through the stomach and said nothing. I busy myself with taking a sip of drink that boy in the suit gave me. It tingles as it goes down but effectively gets my mind off of that day.

Undersee snorts, "Not your taste?" I must've cringed.

"Since when do you drink wine?" I shoot back, reaching for the glass of water that had been sitting there when I got to the table.

"Madge comes from a very well off family, Gale," Effie says, almost offensively. "If she wants to have a glass of wine with dinner that's perfectly alright with me."

"I'll second that," Haymitch raises his cup toward her. She groans and motions for the boy in the white suit to come over, grabbing a different cup off. It's like she already lives here. She'd be great to win the Games, little to no adaptation needed to survive this place. I bet she knew how to work her shower.

"Here," she places it in front of me. "You'll like that better." I go to snap at her, wondering how she'd know what I'd like but I decide against it. It wouldn't change anything. I just won't drink it. The table falls silent as Undersee sips from her own glass. "Or don't," she says quietly. I'm not going to let her think I can't handle her fancy Capitol drinks so I reach for the wine again. The thought of Undersee drinking sort of unnerves me. I mean, it's only wine, but it's still alcohol. Must be abundant in her household. I've never had anything to drink before, not like this. Once my mom received a bottle from one of the people in town she washes clothes for and she let me have a sip. It tingled too.

"May, could you pass me the…" Haymitch trails off as Undersee drops her knife on her plate, the clatter echoing through the room.

"Madge," Cinna corrects lightly, looking toward the girl whose skin has gone paler than ever before. He reaches across the table and grabs what Haymitch had been about to ask for and passes it to him slowly. Undersee blinks rapidly, dropping her eyes to her hands. Cinna reaches forward to rest a hand on her shoulder but she's too fast.

"I'm not hungry anymore," she says suddenly, pushing herself away from the table, her eyes downcast. Haymitch slinks back in his chair with a groan.

"Undersee I didn't," Haymitch starts but doesn't know how to finish. My eyes flicker between him and the girl retreating to her room.

"Madge," Cinna calls after her, "you've barely had anything to eat…"

"I'm fine," she says back. A few moments later the slam of her door echoes through the house. Everyone's eyes dart to Haymitch who's also pushing himself out of his chair.

"Of course one of the first tributes I actually _like _Haymitch has to go and _offend_ her," Effie rambles, crossing her arms angrily. It's basically as if I don't exist. "Why on earth do you keep _calling_ her that, Haymitch?" He doesn't answer and instead lumbers off to his own room, slamming the door shut behind him. Effie drops her arms and looks around at the remainders. Me, Portia, Cinna. "Well," she sighs, "I just don't understand. Cinna?"

"Couldn't tell you in the least," he says, picking up his cup. I watch Cinna for a moment, the way he smiles up brightly at Effie after that, and I realize that he's lying. The flicker in his eyes as he meets my gaze confirms the fact. I reach for the glass of wine I had earlier and take another sip, it's not so bad. Besides, the more I drink the lighter everything feels. Dinner goes on and Haymitch eventually returns to us but Undersee stays in her room. I keep getting refills on the cup of wine and when I'm at about my fourth Portia makes a point to take it away with a laugh. That, however, doesn't work well. Everything I'm seeing is like a series of photographs and I love the sensation. My senses are amplified and muffled at the same time. When we all sit down to watch the opening ceremonies I just get another glass of something different. This one's smooth a blue, it slides down my throat sweetly. Those around me eat at a cake made of fire, surely something Undersee would like. Maybe I'll take her a piece.

As the ceremonies drag on I kind of want Undersee to come back out, she'd surely be muttering things under her breath that I'd be able to laugh at. But she doesn't. Not even when we're on the screen getting hooted and hollered at. "Gale," Portia frowns. "I didn't want you drinking anymore."

"Leave the boy alone," Haymitch grumbles at her. I nod approvingly at him and he forces something that might be a smile onto his face. It's gone as fast as it appears. Makes me wonder if I imagined it.

"We look great," I grin, slouching back on the couch. "Wow, man you guys are great." The flames leap off the television and I feel like I'm going to get burned by just sitting here. There's no doubt in anyone's mind that we were the best out there. It's even better because no one expected us to be so awesome. Probably pissed a whole bunch of people off, too, which makes it even better.

"Thank you, Gale," Cinna smirks into his hands. Portia elbows him and I laugh.

"No, really I'm serious! I mean look at Undersee!" she waves on the screen and blows kisses at me. Not a soul can deny her grace or beauty. "She looks like an angel!" And she does, the way the blues and whites twirl behind her ever so sweetly, how her face is illuminated and bright. It's like seeing her in a whole new way, slowly breaking out of her shell one layer at a time for the world to see. She's not quiet and angry, she's bright and dedicated. Yeah, yeah that's it. She's determined, God I love that. Determined people. People who do whatever they have to so they can get what they want. Yeah, she's like that. I can see it now.

"Okay, maybe you should take that from him," Haymitch says under his breath eyeing the glass in my hand. Hopefully I haven't been saying my thoughts out loud. I down the rest of the drink and toss him the empty cup. Maybe I _have_ been saying my thoughts out loud. That's what alcohol does. It makes everything have a slant and messes up my senses immensely, but the feeling is so great I don't even care. It's like floating on a cloud while walking and swimming and flying and I don't even care about _anything_ anymore, like that avox or the Games or the stupid fucking Capitol because right now, they just don't matter.

"I'm gonna go get her," I announce, pressing up on my feet and lifting from the couch. I pause for a moment as my center of balance shifts, my head going momentarily light. The feeling makes me smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Gale," they all say back with giggles. Laugh away! I feel great and _they're_ all sober. Well, expect maybe Haymitch. No wonder he's always drinking. I sway as I walk, using the wall as a guide. Maybe I'm not swaying, maybe there's an earthquake. I laugh at the thought of there being an earthquake in the Capitol and how all the rainbow colored zombies would panic in the streets.

I finally make my way to Undersee's door and knock on it. There's no response so I knock louder, sighing and leaning my head against it. I just wanna talk to her, is all. Should've brought her cake, maybe make a peace offering. She's not all that bad, really she isn't. "Gale?" she opens the door and I fall in, Undersee moving out of the way just before I fall on her. "What do you want?" Her voice isn't angry, more curious. Of course it'd be curious.

"I just wanted to _say_," I force myself up right and blink a few times. She's still in that light blue dress. "You look nice."

"I look… what?" She watches me for a moment as I close the door behind me. "Are you drunk?" I lean backwards against the door and inhale deeply, her room smells good.

"No," I shake my head. The sensation causes me to go lightheaded and I laugh. "Maybe. That wine was good." She rolls her eyes and pushes me to sit on the bed. "Why'd you leave dinner? You coulda came back out?" I should probably go to bed but after her not being with us for a few hours I kinda miss her. Especially compared to the company I've had who keeps laughing at me. She's not laughing at me, that's nice. Like old times but without the glaring. Not that her glaring ever really affected me. "You look nice in blue."

"Stop saying that," she mutters, crossing her arms angrily. "Our first day in the training center is tomorrow and you're going to go into it with a hangover." She rolls her eyes again and storms into her bathroom. I've never had a hangover before, although I've heard some people talk about them like they're the work of the devil. Should be exciting. "I should just get an attendant," she mumbles so she thinks I can't hear her. I can hear her. Her dress blows out behind her and makes it look like the winds blowing. Like an angel again except she doesn't have wings. I laugh as she returns, a scowl on her face and something in her hand. "Lay back," she instructs, and I do. "You're an _idiot_."

"Just tasted good," I say as she places a warm cloth on my forehead. I know what she's doing, I saw Mrs. Everdeen do it once or twice when someone was drunk. Makes the headache in the morning not so bad, I think. It's nearly impossible to believe that something that makes you feel so wonderful at night will cause you so much pain when you wake up. "Besides, I may never get the chance to drink again! Just wanted to try it." Some water from the cloth drips down my temples and her fingers wipe it up gently. "That feels nice," I tell her. Undersee sighs and finally sits on next to me on the bed. "Wanna go home," I mumble, my eyelids flittering shut. She combs through my hair and sighs again. "Let's go home."

"You will," she says weakly.

"No," my eyes snap open, "both of us." She laughs and her fingers slip from my forehead. Only one of us can come home, that's such bull. We should both just get up and leave. "Right now."

"I don't want you drinking anymore," she says sadly. "Alright?"

"Can't tell me what to do," I murmur. I don't want her to die. She's too innocent. Again she laughs and her fingers return to the hair on my forehead. It feels nice. Nicer than the warm cloth. Soothing. "Who's Maysilee?"

"No one,"

"Liar,"

"You don't actually care," she shoots back softly. "You're just curious. Besides, you don't want us to be friends remember? I would only tell that to a friend." I think for a minute, I had said that hadn't I? "I always thought we were friends, kind of. I mean you were friends with Katniss and so was I and…"

"Don't talk about her," I mutter. I don't want to think about Katniss ever again. What her reaction must have been to see me and Undersee lighting up the Capitol, holding hands like best friends. She's probably disgusted, resents me. "Talk about something else."

"Why do you hate me?" she asks gently. Oh, she's been waiting to ask that for a long time. I can tell by the way it flows so naturally from her lips. I sit up on the bed but she pushes me back down, her fingers continuing their dance through the hair brushing my forehead.

"I don't,"

"You act like you do," and yet she's still friendly with me. God, that's so irritating! She thinks I hate her, which I don't, and yet she still goes out of her way to try and be nice! Why can't she just close herself off? That'd be a hell of a lot easier. "It's okay if you do."

"I don't," I say again. And I don't. I know I don't. I don't hate Undersee, there's nothing about _her_ to hate. She's just so freaking _kind_. "You just never understood."

"All I wanted was to be like everyone else," she says quietly, finally pulling her hand away and resting it in her lap. "To have friends and a family that didn't…" she brings her hand up to her head and rubs her temples. "Never mind." I watch as her eyebrows furrow and she groans under her breath. "You should get to your own room."

"I don't hate you," I say again. I know she doesn't believe me but I want her to. I want her to believe that I don't hate her because I don't. "Really, I don't." I can't have her die and have her think I hate her.

"Okay, Gale,"

"And you looked really nice for the ceremonies."

A smile slips onto her face, "Thank you." There's a pause as I turn on my side to face her, the cloth slipping from my forehead.

"We could be friends."

"It's too late for that," her voice is hollow. "Not with us going into the Games."

"What about until then?"

"You're drunk, you don't mean it." She forces her eyes shut and keeps her head down. My eyes start tracing the loose strands of her hair that twist down her back. She belongs here, in a nice place like this. It's just suiting. "You won't remember any of this in the morning anyway. You'll wake up and go straight back to hating me."

"I already said I don't hate you," I roll back down and angrily grab the cloth to put on my forehead again. "Why don't you believe me?"

"Three years of angry scowls and lack of conversation?" a sad laugh travels up her throat. "Just a feeling, I guess." I watch her out of the corner of my eye and she slumps even more into her lap. "It didn't help that my father is who he is but that wasn't my fault. I just wanted you to like me." There's another long pause as she shakes her head and sits back up. "Here, let's get you to your room." She turns to me and peels the cloth from my forehead before grabbing my arm. I hesitantly sit up and note the small smile that tugs on the corners of her lips. "Come on, you'll make people think something." I don't realize until the next morning what she means. Undersee has a sense of humor.

I stand up and lean against her, my arm wrapping around her waist and hers around mine. The hall is quiet but I still hear the adults out by the TV. "Hard to walk," I mutter. She nods and forces my door open, pulling me in. When I collapse upon my bed her hand slips from me but I keep my grip, causing her to fall with me. "Sorry."

"It's fine," she says quickly, prying my fingers away so she can sit back up. Her cheeks tint pink as she smooths her dress over her legs. "Now get some sleep, alright?" She doesn't look back up at me as she makes a dash for the door.

"Wait," I wrap my fingers around her wrist just before she moves out of the way. "Stay in here for a little bit." I watch conflicting emotions cross her face and move through her eyes but she nods, resting down on the foot of my bed anyway. "You're good at this."

"Dealing with drunks?" she snorts and rolls her eyes. "You have no idea." She exhales slightly and I watch her chest rise and fall as she breathes. I don't know why I wanted her here. Maybe it has to do with the fact that her presence calms me, or maybe that she really isn't as angry as I had thought. Maybe I'm just more terrified than I plan to admit. Maybe it's the alcohol. The sad truth is that it's probably a combination of all four. "Maysilee was my aunt," she finally says. "I look just like her, apparently. She and Haymitch were allies in the Games together." Another pause as she looks away from me. It takes me a moment before I realize what she's saying. "She obviously didn't make it back." That's what Haymitch wants. To bring her home because he couldn't get her aunt. Like a debt. I know a lot about debts.

"Why tell me now?" I ask quietly. She's obviously upset and it's clear she didn't want to talk about it.

"Because I'm hoping you won't remember in the morning." There's a pause as she turns to look at me, "And at the same time I wish you would."

* * *

_A/N: And of course, he remembers in the morning. Training starts and he attempts to be friends with Madge, not really wanting their lives to end with any regrets. He doesn't really hate her, just what she stood for. If that makes sense. Hope you're liking my take on the story!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: It's easier to be angry.**

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When I wake up I'm still in my clothes from yesterday, my head throbbing painfully. With a grunt I roll over on my side. I remember Undersee carefully lifting me out of her bed and leading me across the hall to mine. She even sat in there with me awhile longer until I fell asleep. She thinks I won't remember but I do, everything. The way her soft skin felt under her caress, her confession about her aunt, how she even managed to get a few laughs out of me which I will continue to blame on the alcohol. She even scooted back up to sit next to me after awhile. I shake it out of my head, I was drunk. I was drunk, and that's all it was. Me being drunk. I won't drink anymore.

I think back to my own confession, how I admitted that I don't hate her. I hate what she was in the District, the way she always had nice clothes and a warm bed at night. How she always had food on the table. But not her. She's too quiet to hate, too gentle and kind even despite the circumstance. Effie pounding on the door makes me flinch and I snap my eyes open. "Big, big day!" she's cheering. On the table rests a cup of water and a small yellow pill. _It'll help_, it reads. Looping cursive handwriting tells me Undersee left it despite the lack of signature. Without hesitation I pop the pill into my mouth and swallow it slowly, leaning back on my bed with a groan. I glance around the room and notice an outfit near the closet, probably what I'm supposed to wear for the training center. After much hesitation I roll out of bed, making my way to the shower.

The second the water starts to pound on my skin my headache eases away. There's still an aching in my stomach but I'm sure once I eat something I'll feel better. It's easier showering this time now that I've figured out what each button means. I apparently take too long in the shower because Effie starts pounding on my door again. Finally I force myself out and get dressed, slowly lumbering toward the table. Effie and Undersee sit together eating slowly. Effie's reluctant to talk considering Undersee lurked in her room all night, but after awhile she's just as chipper again. I take the seat across from Undersee and reach to pile food on my plate. The first thing I reach for she shakes her head no quickly. I lift my eyes to look at her and she bites her lip. The next thing I reach for she does the same.

"Well then what?" I nearly snap at her.

"That is _no_ way to say good morning!" Effie screeches. Undersee covers her mouth with her hand, most likely to hide a smirk. "Apologize!"

"No, no it's okay," Undersee forces out through a strangled smile. She tips her head to the side and motions for what I should eat. "It'll help." I nearly cringe and how she mimics the note she left. As I lift the food she said was good for me onto my plate I realize she's wearing the exact same thing I am. I've got to tell someone that this _together_ act they're trying to force us into isn't going to work for anything. In fact, it'll probably blow up in our faces.

Haymitch finally makes an entrance and sits down, his eyes avoiding Undersee and hers avoiding his. If they're going to be like this the rest of the time I'm going to go insane. "Alright," he mutters, "let's get this figured out. Do you want to train separately or together?" I look up at Undersee who won't lift her eyes from her damn plate. "Your choice."

"I don't care," I tell him the same time she says,

"Separately." Finally her eyes meet mine, but only for a moment. She looks down again. I thought we kind of agreed to a truce last night, but maybe I've been mistaken. Mysteries lurk beneath her deep blue eyes, something I can't read. And I'm usually pretty good at reading people. You have to be if you're a hunter.

"Interesting turn of events," Haymitch murmurs. "But okay. Hiding something, Undersee?" She drops her hands to the table and forces her eyes up.

"Guess you'll find out," she shoots back. I can't figure out if she's scared or not. She never lets on.

"What about you, Hawthorne?" he turns to me, crossing his arms.

"She already knows everything I'm good at," I say. And I thought I knew everything she was good at too, but apparently not. "Bow and arrow, knives, stealth…"

"And you're good? You're not bluffing?"

"Yeah, he's good," Undersee answers for me. She knows I'm usually not the one who brought in the shots for the people in town, it was Katniss. My aim isn't nearly as good as hers. But still she continues, "Great shot."

"Decent," I raise an eyebrow at her. "Not as good as it could be but…"

"Don't talk yourself down," she rolls her eyes. What is she _doing_? "He's great. Plus he knows all about plants in the wilderness and whatnot, he'll be fine."

"Well she's on the track team," I jab my finger in her direction, the words coming out before I process what I'm doing. Her eyes lift to meet mine. "Yeah, I know that. Pretty fast too. I've seen." Her face flushes, in anger or embarrassment. Which, I'm not sure. My face should be the one flushing, I know more about her than I think. "You gonna tell him that?" Maybe I'll even tell Haymitch about how she won nearly half the metals at the school race last year, sure she'd appreciate that one. The way her feet pound out a rhythm along the school track out back just as her fingers tap out a song on the piano. It's how she keeps time, how she keeps pace. The only reason I know this is because there's not much to do in District 12, I think. It's not like I can hunt all day.

"Stop it!" Effie shrieks. "My goodness, can't you two just get along?" Which two she means, I'm not sure. I don't exactly get along well with Haymitch, but then again neither does Undersee. After last night I'm not even sure where I stand with _Undersee_. "First you abandon us at dinner and now you're fighting! I just woke _up_!"

"I'm sorry, Effie," Undersee says politely. "It was rude of me. It's rude of all of us to be acting like this. It must be the nerves of the training center." Damn, and she's a good liar too. I don't understand her!

"I suppose," she sighs and looks at the clock. "Speaking of which, you two have to go!" Effie pushes us toward the elevator but Haymitch lurches after us.

"Few more things, don't show them what you can do." I force my eyebrows together as he jabs a finger at me. "Stay away from the bow. Stay away from the knives." He looks at Undersee. "The piano." I try my hardest not to snort but it comes out anyway. She crosses her arms. He just means to hide her talents but he could've said it in a nicer way. "Try something new," he says to both of us. "Maybe throw a spear or lift some weights, I don't know. But stay together."

"_What_?" Undersee and I shout at the same time, throwing our hands down angrily. We both look at each other and then back to Haymitch who stands with a smirk.

"You heard me. Together. All times. It's not up for discussion."

"But she doesn't know things that I do! I'll be wasting time! Relearning!"

"Well then teach her something, Hawthorne," he rolls his eyes and then shoves us into the elevator. "Make it work." And then the doors click shut.

Undersee blinks a few times and then steps backwards, leaning against the wall with a sigh. "You don't have to," she says quietly. "Stick with me, you know."

"If that's what Haymitch wants then yes I do," I mutter back through clenched teeth, remaining in my spot. I can see her through the reflection of the metal doors, she's got her eyes closed and her head back. "I thought we were okay after last night." She visibly cringes, she really wasn't hoping I'd remember. "Now you're hiding things from me?" My tone is more angered than I wanted it to be, but I don't think she notices. I don't even know why I'm so angry. It's not like it's going to matter in a few weeks.

"I'm not hiding anything," she says quietly. "I just don't want you to be around when I blatantly embarrass myself." The elevator dings and opens out upon the training center before I can say anything else, and she marches past me. She's right, I don't have to stay with her, but I will. The thought of going around alone is intimidating. The second we step into the room everyone's eyes turn to us. Undersee falters in her step and waits for me to catch up, and then someone rushes over and pins a number 12 on both of our backs. "We're the only ones that match," she whispers.

"Thanks, I hadn't noticed," I grumble. My pace picks up so I'm next to her. "Stay with me. Don't talk to them." She nods and reaches up, pulling her hair off to the side and tugging on it despite it being up. "Stop doing that, you look nervous."

"I _am _nervous," she hisses back, but drops her hands. "They could break me with their eyes closed."

"Don't say that," I bite out. The thought of Undersee getting broken makes me fidget. She's so fragile, it's like a sin to lay a hand on her. We join the rest of the group who continues to stare at us and I take a step closer to Undersee. Her hand brushes mine and I quickly cross my arms, yet stand my ground. I'm just as tall as most of the guys here, maybe the careers, but I've got muscle too. Different type, not the bulky kind that they have, but muscle nonetheless. Nearly every girl is taller than Undersee though, they have muscle too. She's thin, and you can tell she has a bit of muscle but not compared to them. Even though only a few seem to have been fed properly they still have an edge on her.

Atala, the woman in charge of the whole training center, starts reading down her list of how people will die, and all about the stations. She says not to just focus on the weapons but on the plants and whatnot too. Although I was angry about having to go through that all again I figure it might help me, I can brush up. I nudge Undersee when she mentions it but she looks angry, like I was trying to point out they we have to go through it again.

When Atala lets us leave all the careers jump for the deadly weapons. "You can pick," Undersee says quietly. "It doesn't really matter to me." So I take her over to the fire starting section. I've made a few fires before but with much difficulty. Today with person telling me what to do I figure out how to make an easy fire. Undersee gets it before I do, and then she helps me. "Yeah, put that there," she takes a rock from my hand and places it under the wood. "It lifts the log up which allows air underneath."

"She's right," the trainer tells me, and then my log catches.

"Thanks," I tell her, and she shrugs. After we've got it down to starting a fire in just a few minutes we step away from him and look around. "What now?" Instead of answering me she just stares off in the distance where one of the careers spears a dummy from fifteen yards away. "Undersee," I mutter.

"What?" she looks back and drops her gaze. "Sorry. I don't care, you pick." So I take her to the knot tying station. I'm a master at snares, that's no doubt. The trainer at the station is elated when I show him how to tie a few new things. We swap trade secrets for a few minutes while Undersee watches and works her nimble fingers around the rope, pulling it as tight as she can manage. "Like this?" I can tell she's really trying so I make an effort to be nice.

"Yeah," I take it and tighten it for her to perfect. "Works with big game, deer, wild dogs," her eyes flicker up to where the careers stand laughing at something. "People." She swallows and nods, taking it back into her hand. "What're they laughing at?"

"The boy from 9," she says quietly. "He threw a knife and missed." I clench my teeth and my eyes look toward the boy in question. He walks away from station with a frown, looking at his feet. "Maybe we should just stick to the survival stations," she says weakly.

"You won't learn how to protect yourself if you stick to the survival stations," I tell her.

"Yeah, but I won't be as easy of a target." She's partially true, but partially false as well. If she messes up then the careers will see her as weak, they'll avoid her until they find it necessary to kill her. On the other hand, if they see her as strong, they could recruit her, earn her some respect. I don't like associating her with them, though. They're wretched, they're pure hatred.

"You're not an easy target," I grumble. But I know that's a lie.

"I'm the _only_ target as of right now," she mutters. "We stole the show from them Gale, they want both of us dead. Right from the start." She stalks away from the knot station, apparently learning all that she could know, and goes toward camouflage. I grab her wrist lightly and pull her toward the archery section. I'm not leaving her defenseless. "What are you doing?" she hisses under her breath. "Haymitch said not to show your strengths."

"I'm gonna teach you to shoot," I tell her. She scowls but stops in front of the bow. The image makes me laugh, Undersee attempting to shoot. "Pick it up." I stand a good few feet away from her and watch as though I've never seen any of this before, mumbling the directions under my breath so no one else can hear. "Undersee just do it." She grumbles and takes the grip into her hands. "It's upside down," I tell her with a smirk.

"Well I didn't know," she mutters, readjusting it. The grabs an arrow and nocks it. "What now?"

"Straighter back," I say, and she does it. Good at following directions. "Both eyes open. The one eyed thing is a myth." Some of the careers a few stations away have stopped to watch her but I won't point this out. She'll give up. "Point your left shoulder at the target," she moves until it's facing it correctly. "Good. Stay with your shoulder at the target but face perpendicular to it."

"But then I won't be able to…"

"Undersee, just do it." She turns her body away more and then adjusts her feet. "Good, see you're a natural."

"Funny," she mutters. I'm not even joking, her stance is _nearly _perfect. All she needed was a push in the right direction.

"You nocked it right," I say. "Just a little early."

"Well _sorry_," she un-nocks her bow and then does it again, I can't help but laugh. She arrow stays pointed at the ground like she knows what she's doing. If I didn't know any better I might think she did.

"Okay, use three fingers to pull the bowstring back. No, only one above. Two below." She nods and then does it perfectly. Natural, I'd say. Anyone watching would think she knew what she was doing. "Right, raise and draw all in the same motion."

"Draw?"

"Pull it back. Keep your arm straight, keep your elbow parallel to the ground." I watch as she does so with some difficulty, it makes me laugh again. Katniss would be cringing at her stance. It's not even bad for a beginner. Perfect if she wasn't shaking so much.

"What now?" she screeches. "This _hurts_."

"You're shaking, stop shaking." I try my hardest not to laugh but it's just so _easy_ to laugh at this.

"I'm shaking because it hurts!" she says again, dropping her stance and pointing it at the ground again. By now _all_ of the careers are looking. I like the grin off my face and cross my arms, leaning back on my foot.

"Do it again," I demand. "Raise and draw. Stay steady. Think about why you're doing this, Undersee." She _humphs_, and then redoes it. Her arm is noticeably less shaky but you can tell it's straining her muscle. "Take it to your chin."

"But," her voice is choked and taut.

"_Undersee_," I hiss. She yanks it tighter to her chin and releases a grunt of pain. "Now let go."

"Let go?" she mutters angrily. As if it was that easy. There's the act of aiming, which I can't exactly do for her, and the act of her needing to stop being so damn stressed about it.

"Okay, no. Take a deep breath." She inhales sharply and holds it. "Let go as you let out your breath." And she does. The arrow shoots straight and she holds her stance, finally lowering her bow when she sees where she's hit. A few inches off the target, but on the board no less. Near the stomach. "That was good."

"I missed the target," she sighs in defeat.

"Barely," she places the bow down. "What are you doing? Go again." She glares daggers in my direction and I smirk. "Scared?"

"It _hurts_," she says again. The careers snicker. Her eyes dart sideways although they're behind her. "They were watching, weren't they?" I don't answer her because she already knows the answer. "Fine, can't really embarrass myself and further, can I?." She picks up the bow and moves in the same fluid motion as earlier, only without my instruction. "Does this look right?" she asks through clenched teeth.

"Chin up," I tell her, and she fixes it. "That's right." She takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes. "You have to look at what you're aiming at, Undersee," I say with a laugh. Her eyes snap open and she releases the bowstring, the arrow flying just as smooth as it had the first time, lodging itself into the knees of the target. "Look, you hit it."

"The knees," she drops the bow back on the rack and paces toward me. "Not much better." That's the thing, though. The knees _are_ much better. If someone was charging at you and you hit them in the knees they'd surely be slowed down a bit.

"We can try again later," I tell her. "That was really good for your first time shooting."

She snorts, "Wow, Gale, you almost sound impressed." The rest of the day is us staying away from the weapons stations. I tell Undersee everything I know about poisonous plants and show her which ones are edible. The trainer there is giddy that I know so much and tells me a few more things I hadn't known. As we leave to walk to lunch Undersee trips over a mat and the careers laugh at her. I reach down to help her up and one of them snorts loudly. "That was ridiculous," she mutters, brushing herself off. "Thanks." I shrug and we walk to the cafeteria, sitting down at a lunch table together. I can tell she's embarrassed by falling by the way she looks at her feet the entire walk there. Once we sit down though her eyes scan the room. I realize we're the only ones sitting together, despite the careers who are loudly talking about how bad some of the people in the room have done. She even looks toward the little girl. "I wish we could get her to sit with us."

"Just leave it alone," I say. She frowns, but doesn't bring it up again. Lunch is awkward the first day, we don't know what to talk about. She still directs what I eat and says that if I don't I'll get sick. Considering I don't plan to puke in the training center in front of everyone I listen to her. "So, you play the piano," I say awkwardly. We know nothing about each other. "How's that?"

She laughs, "It's okay. You never heard, did you?"

"Once or twice when I got there early," I say. I think back to the muffled tinkle of piano I heard through her door. It always sounded decent. I'd make sure she was done playing before I'd knock. If it was to listen, or so she could finish, I wouldn't know. Maybe both. "What else do you do?" Our voices are quiet as if we're having a secret conversation, but in truth it's only because we don't want to be loud. The entire atmosphere of the cafeteria is intimidating, the way no one talks except the careers. It makes me feel like Undersee and I are breaking rules. But we aren't. Everyone else sits alone and doesn't look up from their plate.

"I liked taking pictures but I was never very good at it," she says, sipping her drink. "I read a lot. Lots of wilderness books."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow at her. "Preparing for the Games?" I tease. Moments after I do so I drop my eyes back to plate. I can't do that with Undersee. _Two weeks_, I remind myself. Two weeks and then this'll all be done with. I can't go around and cross that boundary with her.

She rolls her eyes, "I always kind of hoped someone would take me to the woods." Her confession is shocking, I never would have imagined her doing something illegal for fun. "I knew a few of the things you told me today at that station."

"Mmm," I mutter, heaving my fork into my mouth and effectively dropping the subject. The rest of the conversation is silent, and then after lunch we a compulsory activity. The first one involves us jumping from platform to platform while trainers try hitting us with long skinny mats. The careers are first in line, obviously, and even I'm in line before Undersee. She does that thing where she fiddles with her hair and I can't even bring myself to stop her this time. Everyone has to do it, so I shouldn't be embarrassed if I fall or something, but I'm not very good with balance.

"Good luck," Undersee whispers before I'm forced forward. My footing is awkward, and the trainers are relentless. The careers snicker, although not all of them were exactly smooth either. I almost trip once but catch myself, and overall, I get through the obstacle unscathed. Sloppy, but I haven't messed up. Undersee's next and I can't help but watch her. She lifts herself onto the platform without help, and then the timer starts ticking. The trainers don't hesitate to heave their mats at her, and she dodges every one. She even barrel rolls onto the next platform, springing up, and sprinting across. Undersee's done with the shortest time. She exits the mat and stands next to me. "That was terrifying."

"You beat everyone so far," I tell her. She looks up at the scoreboard and her eyebrows furrow. The career, the girl Glimmer who had been in first, scowls and stalks away. I smirk, "I knew you were fast."

"Only because I was nervous," she mutters, and then she, too, stalks away. I grab her wrist before she's too far and then pull her back toward the arrows. Training's almost over for the day. "What, Gale?" she groans as I deposit her.

"Are you still nervous?"

"No, I finished that stupid obstacle."

"Okay, well you're still shaking," I point out. She frowns and reaches for the bow. "Listen, when you did it earlier you did great." Her frown deepens and I can't help but smile. "Really, for a first time. But the thing is, if you were to get a bow there's no way you'd have time to wait and aim. You'd just have to fire."

"So you're telling me I just have to fire?" I nod and she sighs, turning into the thing. "You're crazy."

"You're taking too much time." She leans down and grabs an arrow. "You'd be dead by now." She groans and nocks it. "You're positioned wrong."

"Would you shut up?" she hisses, fixing her stance quickly and firing an arrow. It misses. By a long shot. Doesn't even hit the target. "I can't do it with you yelling at me!"

"You think people are going to shut up so you can position your aim at them? Do it again," I order.

"No," she growls. I walk over, grab the bow, and force it into her hands. "Gale," her voice is verging on desperation, but that's not how you win the Games.

"Do it. Again." She shoves me off of her and repeats the stance. "Chin," I note, and she lifts it. "Both eyes. Faster." She fires, missing again. "Again."

"Gale!" She nearly falls to her knees and starts begging me to let her stop, but I won't.

"You're fighting for your _life_, Undersee." I step away from her as she takes a deep breath, reaching for the last arrow in the quiver. "Think about someone you hate." Her jaw clenches. "Think about getting back, proving everyone wrong." She closes her eyes tightly and fixes her position. "Who do you want to prove wrong?" Her eyes snap open. "Because right now, you aren't." The arrow fires from the bow and lodges itself in the chest of the target. Undersee locks eyes with me, drops the bow, and then charges away. I follow hot on her tail, looking back at her shot. The gamemakers have noticed, as have the careers. Hell, that was a nice shot. I'd be grinning if it weren't for the fact that careers are watching her walk forward. They whisper back and forth to each other and the one who looks like her, Glimmer, nods. Cato starts walking toward her but I reach forward. "Undersee," I grab her shoulder.

"There I hit your stupid target," she mutters exasperatedly. I can see the bags finally dropping under her eyes. She's tired. "Can you leave it alone now?"

"Who were you thinking of?" my eyes flicker to the boy who was striding toward us, now frozen in his path. I have to make quick conversation, have to get her to not notice.

"No one," she clenches her fists and squeezes her eyes. "It doesn't matter." Her eyes snap open and she catches me looking over her shoulder. Damnit. "Who's behind me?"

"Cato," I whisper. The boy squints his eyes and I reach forward and grab Undersee's waist. "Come on," I pull her away, smiling up at the boy who clenches his jaw and starts back toward his group. Her skin goosebumps at my touch but she says nothing, allowing me to pull her away toward the elevators. Once we get there I drop my hand and she leans against the wall. "I don't like him."

"What did he want?" she asks weakly. I can pinpoint the terror in her voice.

"They watched you shoot. You're good when you're angry." That's not a lie, either. I'll be sure to piss her off real good and then make her throw some knives at some dummies tomorrow. She closes her eyes and bangs her head on the glass just as the door opens. "I don't want you talking to him."

"Sure thing, mom," Undersee rolls her eyes and steps off the elevator as we reach our floor. It doesn't evade me that she still has goosebumps.

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_A/N: More training, as well as some Gale/Haymitch/Madge angst, I'm thinkin. We'll see where this goes. I hope you're liking it!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: She's more than just a pretty face.**

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"How was training?" Effie asks brightly as we sit down for dinner. Undersee decides to stay with us this time, and Portia and Cinna come back to eat as well. Haymitch obviously doesn't want to be here, but he is, so that's a downer. Tonight instead of a blue evening gown Undersee has on this strappy red dress that makes me think she could've pulled off normal fire just as well. "Gale?"

"Huh?" I look up and realize now Undersee's cheeks are red, too. Must've been staring, damn collarbone. Not my fault her dress is cut in the exact perfect angle… "Fine, Undersee can shoot." Good, change the subject away from me.

"Really now?" Haymitch smirks, tipping his glass so the liquid slides down his throat. "Interesting."

"Only when she's angry," I continue. She says nothing but I watch Cinna reach under the table and squeeze her knee. He whispers something about how that's really good, but she doesn't say anything. The meal continues on as normal, Haymitch and Effie shouting angry things at each other, Portia trying to keep everyone calm, Cinna chuckling behind his hand. Undersee and I exchange a few knowing glances every once in awhile about the people we share a table with, that's what gets me through. She just has to look at me and I can tell exactly what she's thinking. _Kill me now_, or _I'd rather be on fire_. Once I catch her rolling her eyes at Effie, who says coals turn to pearls, and I laugh out loud, causing the entire table to look at me. When they ask me what I was laughing at I tell them nothing, and watch as Undersee smiles at her plate.

"So back to what you said about shooting," Haymitch picks up from our earlier conversation. "She can shoot?" Instead of referring to her by name he just looks at her, calling her she. That's gotta suck. Better than saying _Maysilee_, though.

"It was mediocre," Undersee mumbles under her breath, picking around at the food on her plate without looking up. It looks as if she's just pushed most of her meal around instead of actually eating it.

"It was great for a first time," I encourage her. I don't need Undersee giving up already. I can't have her do that. I think to when I'll have to see her picture in the sky and I'll need to know she went down with a fight, that she didn't just give up. She can't give up. I won't let her. I don't want to see her picture in the sky. "With more practice she'll be great. She just needs to be pissed."

"Drop it, Gale," she says angrily, her hands clenching around a wineglass.

"Told her to think about someone she hates," I continue despite her protests. Alright, I'll admit it, I love watching her cheeks flush with anger, her eyes darken. Seeing that she's more than Ms. Prim and Proper. "Who was it?" I've got to know. I wonder if it was me.

"I said drop it," she says again, unclenching the wineglass slightly, although her fingers keep their grip. She's obviously trying to keep her calm, but I'm just getting started.

"Probably you, Haymitch," I jeer playfully, causing the old man to scoff. It could've been him. He narrows his gaze on me and locks his jaw. "It's no secret Undersee can't stand you."

"Gale," she says again, her eyes also narrowing at me.

"I mean you go off and bring up her dead aunt, always getting them confused. What's her name, Maysilee?" I shouldn't have said that. The second it comes out of my mouth I wish I could take it back. I go to apologize but she's too quick for me.

"Enough!" she shouts, her hand clenching around the wineglass and chucking it in my direction. If I hadn't been paying attention it would've hit me clean in the face, but instead it shatters behind me as I duck out of the way. "My name isn't Maysilee," she glares at Haymitch, then at me, "my name isn't _Undersee_. It's Madge," she breathes angrily. "Effie understands that! Cinna, Portia! Why is it so freaking hard for you two to call me Madge! It's one stupid syllable!" Avoxes are already cleaning up the mess behind me but I can't pull my gaze from her, the way her midnight blue orbs bore into me. And then, just like last night, she's pushing herself away from the table. Her stupid black shoes are clicking on the tiles and the entire table sits quiet, even Effie, but I'm not letting this happen again.

I push away from the table, too, rushing after her as fast as I can. My hand is around her wrist before she gets to her room and she turns to me, her hand making contact with my face before I even get the chance to predict it. Meanwhile, there's fire in her eyes. God, she definitely could have pulled off the red flames. "Madge," I say forcibly, ignoring the stinging on my cheek. Her eyes widen as if she didn't expect me to actually call her that. "Don't keep doing this. Running off. Don't."

She growls, "Let go of me."

"Aren't you tired of always running away?"

"Aren't you tired of bullying me?" she snaps back. "How many years has it been, three? Aren't you sick of it? I'm sick of it. I'm gonna be dead in the next week, the least you can do is _pretend_ you don't like making me angry." Her voice is desperate as she slinks against a wall, throwing her head back. "I'm tired of this! I just want to be able to sit through dinner and feel like myself and…"

"You have great aim," I cut her off gently, leaning forward on my forearm over her. "You know that?"

"Don't change the subject," she mutters.

"Someone's got to come home, you've said it yourself. Why not you?"

She swallows slowly, "I'm not having this conversation with you." I've overheard her enough, talking about how I'd be the one to come home. "Can I go now?"

"Back to the table?"

"No,"

"Then no," I lean closer. "Act like a normal person and come eat with us." As an afterthought, I add, "Please. It's the least you owe me for smacking me." The color drains from her face as she pushes me away, stalking back to the table angrily. I follow slowly, a victory smile on my lips. No one mentions the wineglass or the handprint on my cheek.

* * *

The next day at training I do exactly what I did last night. I piss her off. I piss her off so much she hits every target. Every one. They're mostly close range, but damn, she has great aim. As she continues her angry knife flinging I step away, just a few stations over, and head to the spear throwing. I don't see how it's much different from knife throwing, except this has to go through the dummy. I lift the first one in my hand and toss it with ease.

"Damn," a boy strides up beside me. "I was starting to think that tough guy front you had, had been just that." It's the boy from 11. "A front."

"Hate to disappoint," I mutter back, a small smirk creeping onto his face. He's hasn't said 20 words to me and yet he reminds me immensely of Thom. "Name's Gale."

"Thresh," he says back, extending a hand to me. The sudden onset of conversation makes me confused, Thresh hasn't spoken a word to anyone since he arrived. I've made note, yet accept the handshake. "I've been watching you."

"How reassuring," I reach for another spear and aim for the one farther back. It's a cinch.

"You remind me of my friend back home," he finishes. I turn to him, narrowing my gaze, and he holds out his palms and leans forward. Just because he reminds me of Thom doesn't mean I can trust him. "We're kind of the same, you and I."

"And how's that?" I reach for another spear, but he takes it from my hand.

"We're from the lesser districts," he says, rearing his arm back and thrusting it forward, the spear lurching forward and through the dummy. "We're stronger than the careers." The way he pauses to give me time to consider this makes me think. Yes. We are. There's more than strength in this. "We went through life expecting to starve, but we didn't." I raise an eyebrow, his family must not be very well off either. "We'd last longer together."

"Are you offering an alliance?" I can't help but smirk, and he shrugs.

"All I'm saying is we'd be stronger together. You really want one of them winning?" he turns to show me the careers. My stomach drops as I realize they're talking to Undersee. "Oh," he scrunches his nose. "I'll talk to you later," he says before marching off in the opposite direction. I watch from a distance for a moment as Undersee talks animatedly to the Glimmer, Cato keeps his eyes trained on her the entire time. Clove, the girl from District 2, crosses her arms angrily. Finally, one of the careers from 4 looks in my direction and whispers something to Marvel, the boy from 1. They laugh and then all look at me, and then the group saunters away, Glimmer waving over her shoulder at Undersee.

I return to her and she doesn't hesitate to jab her finger at me. All the color is gone from her face. "You left me," she hisses.

"I didn't think I went too far," I admit innocently. Her hands shake as she rests it on my chest, trying to calm herself. "I won't leave you again. I swear, okay?" She nods and I reach forward, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Madge, they're gone."

"They want me to join them," she chokes out. "They want me to _join_ them…"

"What'd you say?" I boom, my voice coming out much harsher than I had planned. She retracts her hand and takes half a step back.

"I said I'd think about it, but I'm not going to."

"No," I consider the options in my head. She'll have more of a chance if she joins them. "You should do it." If she joins the careers she'll always have to watch her back, but she'll last longer in the Games without having to kill anyone. They'll kill for her, plus if she's in the pack then she'll last just as long as they do. "Tell them you'll do it."

"Are you _insane_?" her eyes widen and she takes another step back from me. "You'd really associate me with them?"

"You'd live longer," I growl. She crosses her arms but her eyes stay upset. "Undersee," her eyebrows shoot up, "Madge," I correct, "just think about it."

"I have thought about it," she clenches her fists and drops her arms. "And I'm not doing it. If I'm going to die I'm not going to die a traitor." She pauses and takes a deep breath. "Would you join them?"

"What?"

"If they asked you, would you join them?" I squint at her and she lets out a dry laugh. "Exactly, you wouldn't. Why should I?" Her eyes dart over to the careers who've been watching us, but they all look away once we see them. "No, I won't. Don't bring it up again. Please, Gale. Don't tell Haymitch, don't… don't tell anyone."

"Madge," I reach up and rub the back of my neck.

"Please," she says again. For the first time since we've arrived I see pure terror in her eyes, and I manage to nod. "Thank you." Her eyes dart across the other tributes as we move away from the weapons stations. "Who were you talking to?"

"Huh?"

"Over at the spears, you were talking to the boy from 11." I shrug. "Are you…?"

"No, Madge," I grumble. I'm not planning any alliances. Not now, not ever. She seems satisfied by this answer and then we start off toward some more survival stations. I find myself looking off toward Thresh more often, though. He spends ample amount of time in the survival stations, which is good considering he already knows how to work a spear. His words echo in my head. _We're kind of the same, you and I._ Am I similar to him? Is he fighting to get home too? Of course he is, we all are. My eyes flicker up to Undersee who has sweat on her brow, hunched over as she tries to perfect the knot she's working on. She's fighting too, I know she is.

"Is this right?" she asks, holding the knot up to me. I take it from her hands before she realizes I was watching her and analyze the knot.

"Perfect." She smiles, her cheeks tinkling pink as she takes it back from me. Would I make an alliance with her, or would it end in too much pain? Haymitch made an alliance with someone from his district who ended up dying, now he's a drunk. The more I think about it, the worse of an idea it becomes. Again I think back to her joining the careers, that would also be painful. Everything would become painful. Everything. Even if I end up winning, I'll lose. The Victor always does.

* * *

After dinner we all move to the couch and watch at the TV replays clips from the Reaping, as well as the opening ceremony. Undersee sits next to me on the couch and I can't help but watch her out of the corner of my eye. Tonight she has on a light gray silk dress that has sleeves with gaping cuts. They expose her arms yet hook on the wrists, bubbling down gracefully. Can't really see her ever intriguing collarbone, but it does show off her legs. She sits, her knees off to the side, and shakes. She's shaking. I nudge her with my hand and she stops, but she doesn't look at me. On the screen they're talking about what an honor it must be to be the mayor's daughter, and she gets up. No one yells at her this time, they just let her go.

But I don't. I follow, her footsteps quickening as they reach a back door, prying it open and rushing up some stairs. I make sure to stay quiet, creeping up as silently as possible behind her. Once I reach the top I realize we're on the roof, flowers litter the ground around us and the wind whips by. She leans over the edge, her head in her hands, and I make my way over to her. "Hey," I say quietly. She doesn't startle.

"Everyone's expecting me to do so well," she says quietly. "I don't know how, I don't know how I'm supposed to impress everyone."

"Just be yourself," I lean over as well. "Everyone likes you." She snorts and then rubs at her forehead before lifting her head up and staring out across the Capitol. "What're you thinking about?"

"How am I supposed to kill someone?" she asks weakly. "He's right, Haymitch is. I'm not just going to give up. But I've got to fight… I've got to fight people and I…" she shakes her head and wraps her arms around herself. "I don't know. I don't know if I can do it."

"Hey," I say lightly, stepping closer as she pulls her arms tighter around herself. "The more you think about it the worse it'll get."

A weak laugh escapes her as she turns to face me, "It's all I can think about. I can't even _sleep_…" before I can stop myself my hand lifts and cups her cheek. "Gale, don't," she pushes it away. "I'm just tired and can't sleep and," she shakes her head, rubbing at her eyes. "I can't eat… I can't breathe…"

"Madge," I lean forward at the sight of tears, my arms wrapping around her back tightly. She caves, her hands lightly against my chest, muffled sniffles ring out. "Hey, shhh…" our stance isn't uncomfortable, it isn't awkward, she fits perfectly in my grasp. Her body molds against mine and I place my chin on her shoulder. "Remember when I said you wouldn't be going to the Capitol?" I ask. A strangle laugh comes from my chest and she nods. "Well… sorry." Then she hits me, pulling away quickly after that. "Hey, I said sorry!"

She smiles weakly and wipes at her eyes. Her cheeks are wet and her face is flushed, but she smiles. "You're an ass," she says faintly. "But I forgive you." Then I smile too. "You know, I was so nervous that morning." I release her from my arms completely. At least if I die, or if she dies, we were friends. For a little bit, I guess. That's better than not at all. I showed her compassion, she opened up to me. That's friends, right? "I just had that feeling, you know?" I shake my head a bit, I didn't have that feeling. "Well, I was nervous. And then you go and talk about how I won't be going and…" she trails off, another laugh escaping her. "Odds weren't in my favor, I guess."

I want to say sorry again, but I won't. I know it won't help. Instead, I decide to tell her a story. "When your name was called I felt like I was going to throw up," I admit. She glances toward me momentarily, and then back out on the Capitol, the towering buildings, the colorful people that scamper back and forth. "I, uh, I started planning this apology in my head."

"You… you were going to say goodbye to me?" she fiddles with her sleeves of her dress and I jerk a nod. "Oh."

"Yeah, well then I was called and I just forgot the whole thing," I run my fingers through my hair as she smiles feebly.

"What was in the apology?"

"God, no," I shake my head and she laughs. "Just forget it."

"Oh, come on!"

I rub at the nape of my neck as she raises her eyebrows expectantly. I think back to when I first heard her name, watched her stride up to the stage determinedly. "It was just something stupid, I don't know." She frowns, crossing her arms and leaning with her back on the ledge. The wind tugs at her hair and pushes it in all directions. "Okay, it," I groan, "it started with me saying I never meant anything I said."

"Anything?" she raises an eyebrow. She must be thinking of the things Katniss might have told her. The way I resented her for her money, viewed her as a stuck up spoiled princess. Yeah, that slipped out a few time in my rants in the woods. Of course Katniss would have said something, maybe by accident. She's not too good at keeping her mouth shut when it comes to her friends.

"And everything," I mutter. Anything and everything. "And, uh, how I'd be rooting for you," I glance at the ground. Why am I telling her this?

"Really?" Again, I groan. Her smile brightens. "Interesting twist, Hawthorne," she teases, turning to lean over the ledge more. I move next to her and glance over as well, soaking up the Capitol, the way it lights up slowly instead of all at once as the pinks and blues creating a sunset mesh together. "Anything else?"

"Nothing important," I mumble, deciding to leave out the part about the strawberries and her looks. "Damn, this sucks." She tips her head to look at me but doesn't hold her gaze. "We could've been friends all this time," we really could've. She makes me laugh, she makes me smile. Not only that but she's determined and bright and good with words. "Now we're being forced to kill each other."

"I'd never kill you," she says quietly. "I couldn't." I know she doesn't mean that I'd kill her first, that she isn't necessarily weaker than me. She just couldn't.

"Me neither," I admit. Madge turns to look at me, her eyes catching the pinks of the sky, and she smiles again. This time it makes me feel something, some sort of ache. She looks so sad, so innocent. This is when I realize if I didn't have a reason to go home I'd make sure she did. Got home, that is. That's the problem, though. I have a reason to go home. I have many reasons to go home, and yet somewhere in my stomach I'm rooting for her.

* * *

_A/N: Training scores and final interview coming up soon. I feel like Gale always had a softer side, and faced with death he'd bring it out while he still had the chance. He'll still be angry, very angry, but he can't really do that with Madge because it isn't her fault. If that makes sense. Suggestions? Thoughts?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: She let it slip.**

* * *

Training comes and goes and then it's time for us to have our one on one session. Undersee's nervous, I can tell because she isn't making smart jokes at me and she tugs on the tips of her hair. The room slowly clears as district by district is called out. When Thresh gets up to leave he tips his head at me, Undersee catches the interaction and raises an eyebrow. I pretend I don't notice though. Then she busies herself by watching the little girl from 11 and biting her nails. Eventually, the little girl, Rue, is called, and she scurries out of the room without looking back.

We wait for awhile until my name is called. "Gale," Undersee grabs my arm before I leave. "The bow, it's probably a bit tighter than the one you use at home. Okay? Take that into account."

I can't help but smile, "Thanks." And then I leave the room, glancing over my shoulder once and watching her pace back and forth in the empty cafeteria. I almost wish I could go after her so she doesn't have to sit in there alone, I know she's nervous as hell. I make quick work of getting to the training center, my hands sweating as I wipe them on my pants. I don't know what I'm going to do. The thought of the gamemakers just watching me throw things and shoot is kind of awkward.

I enter the room and glance up at the gamemakers, half of them are tipsy, and the other half barely acknowledges me. I hate District 12. I hate that we have to go last. I hate the gamemakers. I'm fighting for my life and they're drunk. They sure as hell weren't drunk when the careers were impaling dummies with spears. I hate the Capitol. I hate the Games. I hate this. "Gale Hawthorne," they call out. "District 12." I nod and the one in the center, the head gamemaker smiles. "Go on, then. You have ten minutes."

I turn to assess the weapons in front of me. Where do I even start? They've seen me throwing spears, I caught their eyes on me once or twice, so I think I can skip that one. I head for the knives. There's an entire wall of them, I don't know which one to pick. Eventually, though, I reach and spin them in my fingers. Feels like home. If I close my eyes tight enough I can almost feel the wind from the woods. I turn to the dummies, making sure at least some of the gamemakers are watching, and I know I have to do it right the first time. No mistakes or I'll lose their attention. I can't lose their attention.

Again my eyes are shut. In front of me I see a deer, I see an animal, I'm in the woods. Katniss whispers something behind me and I mentally tell her to shove off. I balance the knife in my hand and my eyes snap open. The knife goes flying from my hand, fifteen yards into the chest of the dummy. A few of the gamemakers gasp, the others who weren't paying attention now turn their gaze. Knife after knife, I send them flying. Must feed my family, must protect them from the Capitol, have to sell the deer at the Hob. Must make an impression, must get home. Over, and over again until all the dummies in the vicinity have knives right in their chests. I look up and a few nod in approval, the others watch silently. Have to keep them engaged, have to impress them, must get home.

As I pass to the archery station I go by the spears, once again showing them how easy that is for me. I've got them all watching now, all their eyes are trained, observant. It's like their bubbly spirits are now professional again at the fact I could be a career. But no, I wasn't offered to join them, Undersee was. And if I keep them interested in me then they'll be interested in her too. Can't mess up. A pig is carried out and not one watches as it sits, they whisper and point at me. I _am_ a career, my own career. I'll show them. I move to the snares quickly, setting up one that hoists people up by their ankles, using a dummy as bait. A few of them smile at the knots, others discuss strategy, and then, as it's hanging in the air upside down, I rush to the archery station. I have to feed my family, I have to make money from the Hob, that's not a person it's a deer, it's a wolf, it's game we can eat. It's a Game, the Hunger Games. I have to win. The bow in my hands reminds me of Katniss. As I pull the bowstring back, I think of Undersee. _Take that into account_. It strains my muscle, I want _my_ bow, but it's easy enough to figure out the differences the first time I pull it back.

I know what I have to do, and I shoot the target with perfect precision. "That's time, Mr. Hawthorne." I nod, placing the bow back on the shelf, and then flash them a smile, it's about the charm. I meet eyes with the head gamemaker, though, and I know he sees my true thoughts. I hate this. I hate you. I hate all of this. But I'm going home. He smiles back, and I walk out of the room after giving a slight bow. I should've shot them. Easy enough to take them all out before a peacekeeper got to me.

I ride the elevators back up to our room in silence, clenching my fists the entire time. I'm going to have to kill someone. Not just one person either, but more than one. My family will be at home watching and there's nothing I can do, nothing at all. I just have to kill, and kill, and kill until I'm the last one standing. I have to go home for Posy, I promised. I have to go home for my family, for Katniss and Thom, for District 12. I have to show them that we're not pathetic, that we deserve attention, respect. I have to show them all.

* * *

At dinner Undersee sits quietly. She won't talk about what happened in the training room, so I don't either. Haymitch pokes and pries and Effie tries to lure us out, but we're both silent. Instead, Undersee makes remarks about the weather, telling everyone how much she wishes it would rain because she loves the sound. I call her crazy.

"Madge, do you know how to walk in heels?" Effie inquires. "Cinna said you'll be wearing heels and if you don't know how then I'll have to teach you."

"Of course I know how to walk in heels," Undersee nearly rolls her eyes. It causes Effie to smile. "I'd love for you to give me some pointers, though." Good old town girl charm, I see. I can be charming too. I flashed the gamemakers a smile, that has to count for something.

"Good, good, we'll be doing that tomorrow. I get you first, Haymitch gets you second. I can't _wait_ to spend some one on one time with you, dear!"

"Great," Undersee cheers back. Haymitch has barely spoken to her since she chucked the wineglass at my head. "And what do I get to do with you, dear Mentor?"

The drunk snorts behind his wineglass, "Guess you'll find out, sweetheart." Undersee shrugs, crossing her arms lightly. I know she's not excited for it. Then again, I think back to when Haymitch offered to train us together and she denied it. The idea of her hiding something comes back to haunt me, but I keep quiet. "I suppose we watch the training scores."

"I suppose you're right!" Effie cheers. "Cinna, Portia," the two stylists push away from the table, and then Undersee and I follow.

"Nervous?" she asks quietly when she knows the others aren't listening. I shrug, I'm not nervous. I don't quite have a reason to be. Good score or bad, everyone'll see what I'm made of once we go in, that's what matters. "Good luck." I nod to her and then we move to sit on the couch, Cinna and Portia in between us. He wraps his arm around her and gives her shoulder a tight squeeze, Portia rests her hand on my knee. I watch Undersee's face go pale, she must not have done very well. Or maybe she just did something really bad. She's just nervous, that's all.

Marvel gets a 9, Glimmer gets an 8. Cato and Clove both get 10's. The careers from 4 both get 9's. Person after person, the average of 5. Each time it gets closer to District 12 I feel my heart pick up pace. Maybe I am nervous. What if I just thought they were watching and they weren't? Who am I kidding, I need a good score! Without it I'm just some sulky handsome boy who had a cape of fire! I need a good score. I _need_ a good score. District 11, Thresh scores a 10, Rue scores a 7. A 7! I take a peek at Madge who's smiling into her hands, I know she's proud despite never talking to the tiny girl. We're next. Portia squeezes my knee, and then my score is flashing. 10. 10! A laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it, and I almost forget to check for Undersee's score. It's an 8, she sighs with relief, I can't help but notice it's the same as Glimmer's.

"Oh my goodness!" Effie nearly shrieks. "You two scored so well! So well!"

"Congratulations," Portia whispers in my ear. I'm still grinning.

"You did great," Cinna tells Undersee.

"I was so nervous," she admits to him quietly. "My hands kept sweating and I kept dropping the knives too early, they wouldn't stick their landing. Plus they were a bit distracted by some pig, I don't know." She turns to look at me, "Good job, Gale."

"You too," I smile back. The rest of the night is spent eating cake with Effie nearly falling out of her chair in excitement. Haymitch says nothing but just drinks a bit more. I catch his eyes lingering on me more than once. But for the moment, everything feels okay. It doesn't feel like we'll be in the Games in two days, it doesn't feel like anything bad will happen. It's just us, this cake, and the stretch of the night. And it feels okay.

* * *

I sit on the couch as Haymitch paces in front of me. We've been here for ten minutes, he hasn't said anything. He just paces. Back and forth, back and forth, hand running through his hair, back and forth, sigh. "You're the first tribute I've ever had," he finally says, "that scored higher than a 6." I raise an eyebrow. "Undersee's the second."

"Madge," I correct lightly as a joke. Haymitch snorts. "What of it?"

"I don't know," he shakes his head. "I'm still trying to figure it out." He taps his chin and then takes one of the recliner chairs across from me. "I don't know what I'm going to do." He furrows and unfurrows his brows, watching me intently. "You said you've got a reason to get home, eh?"

"Family," I nod. "Little sister, little brothers. Single mother. I know you want Undersee out, I _know_ that, but I don't care. I have to get home, you don't understand. I'll do anything, Haymitch, I've got to get home."

"That," he points at me, disregarding everything I just said. "That's it. You're determined, you'll do anything to win. That's your angle."

I laugh before I can stop myself, "What did you say?"

"For the interview, you idiot." Haymitch rakes his fingers through his hair. "That's your angle, your family. You go with that. I know you hate this, I _know_ you do, but you have to convince everyone that you don't. Charm them, you don't look half bad when you smile. You're not entirely terrible with words, either." I snort. "You think I'm joking? Here, what's your little sister's name?"

"Posy," I say slowly. I don't _want_ to talk about my family. If I end up dying then they'll have that stupid interview to haunt them for the rest of their lives. Little Posy, sweet God she's so young.

"How old is she?"

"Four," I force out. Five next month. I have to be there, I told her I'd be there with her. I even had my eye on this doll at the Hob that I knew she'd like. I have to get it for her, I have to be home. I have to win, I have to.

"Come on, Hawthorne, give me something to work with," he growls. "What'd you tell her before you left?"

"I promised I'd come home," I mutter.

"_Hawthorne_,"

"I can't practice being a good speaker, Haymitch," I snap at him. "It just comes to me. Plus I hate talking to you, so I doubt that's helping much."

"Okay, determined, forceful, fiery like that damn cape. Charm them, intimidate them, but you've got to win their vote whatever you do. Go along with whatever Flickerman says, talk yourself up. The audience will eat it alive, you understand?" I shrug, sounds easy enough. "Can you do that?"

"Aye aye, Captain," I salute him and he smirks. "I thought you wanted Undersee to get out?"

"I do, but I can't get both of you out. Only one can win, yeah? You've got more of a basis to get home than she does, besides you're a fighter. You hate this, the entire thing. The only reason you're cooperating with it because you don't want your family harmed, you don't want them to see you fail. I'm not an idiot, we're a lot alike, boy."

"I'm nothing like you," I bite out.

"Maybe not now, but when I was in the Games? You're a spitting image of me."

"Speaking of the Games, you and Undersee's aunt were allies." I change the subject to him and watch as Haymitch visibly cringes.

"This time is about improving your audience skills," Haymitch grumbles, tipping the beer in his hand into his mouth. "Not about me."

"Allies?"

"Don't ally with friends," Haymitch grumbles. "You and Undersee, don't do it," he shakes his head. "Makes it worse, so much worse." He rakes his fingers through his hair and sighs. "Stay away from her in the arena. If you cross paths, run the other way." He snorts, "Or kill her painlessly. Your choice."

"I couldn't kill her," I snap. "You really think I'd be able to lay a hand on her?"

"What if it comes down to you two, eh? What about then?"

"Not gonna happen," I jeer back. God, please don't happen. Odds are it won't happen. Please don't happen.

"And if it does?"

"It won't."

* * *

After a few hours with Effie telling me to _smile, smile, smile would you?_ I'm finally sent to my prep team. Aelia is overly excited to see me again, considering she's the one that gets to scrub my body. Painful raking of the skin over and over again, but this time it's not as much. I was just spiffed up a few days ago, I can't be that dirty.

"I am so _excited_ to see you on stage!" she coos, her hands running playfully through my hair. "You are going to look so _handsome_."

"Only because we're the ones doing him up," Prisca jeers back. She's a bit nicer after my training score but you can still tell she hates me.

"Be nice, Prisca," Vius says angrily. "Gale's going to steal the show, I just know it." Prisca rolls her eyes, batting Aelia's hands away from my hair. Apparently, all three have specific parts of my body. Vius does hands and feet, soaking them in some strange lotion. Aelia does the rest of my body, which she thoroughly enjoys, and Prisca gets my head, hair and all. In fact, she spends the majority of time on my hair. She seems content when she spreads some strange gel through my hair, as well as when she rakes some sort of chemical across my chin that stings.

Once my hair is perfectly molded, Prisca making note of her 'perfection', she leaves the room so it's just Vius and Aelia. "She really hates me," I say, not being able to stop my laugh.

Vius shrugs, filing away at my nails. "She hates everyone." After they're done shaping my body and making me _handsome_, they're all gone. Forever. Maybe to never be seen again. Can't say I'd miss them. Portia enters and smiles brightly at me, strutting across the room to unveil the suit I'll be wearing for the interviews. Now Portia, Portia I'd miss.

"Here you are, Mr. Hawthorne," she hands me my underclothes and I pull them on quickly. "Oi, your hair," she shakes her head. "Sorry about that."

"That bad?" I groan, glancing at myself in the mirror. It's not me, it's slick and unappealing. "Fix it, would you?"

She smirks, "My dear boy, we don't have time for that." She laughs as she helps me into my suit, charcoal black with flames on the cufflinks. "Do you like it?"

I nod and honestly say, "Yes. I love it. Although I miss the cape." She chuckles, straightening my bowtie and cufflinks and tapping my cheek gently. "Thank you Portia, for everything. You've given me the best advantage possible."

"You would've been fine without my help," she says lightly. "You've got it all, Gale. The reason to go home, the determination. You're strong, charming, you're even a sweetheart when you're not angry." I snort and she grabs my hand. "Tomorrow when you go into the Games, you're going to do great. But first you have to wow them, you have to show them how much potential you have, you have to show them what's really in a Victor." I nod as she ushers me toward the door. "If you get nervous just look at me. I doubt you'll get nervous, but just in case." Again, I nod, and she leans up and kisses my cheek lightly. "Now, let's go kill em."

We walk out together toward the elevator where Cinna and Undersee are already waiting for us. I pause in my step before she notices we're there and just look at her. Beautiful, it's the only word I can conjure at first. Madge looks beautiful. Yellows and blues of intricate designs are stenciled down her arms, her hair is pinned up, but still down. Nothing like at the opening ceremonies. Now, it's flowing, cascading down her back yet still out of her face, framing her lightly colored cheeks. It pulls out the sparkle in her eyes, and when she turns to see us her lips tug upward. Portia nudges me to keep walking with a noted grin, Cinna smirks into his hand. I can't take my eyes off of her, the way her dress is shorter in the front but longer in the back, and every step she takes it's like flames are licking the ground behind her. Still blue, but a hint of red is in there somewhere.

"I look like one of them," she whispers to me, "don't I?"

"One of who?" I ask back once Portia and Cinna are busy complimenting each other on their work.

"A Capitol citizen," she says painfully. "Don't I?" A laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. "Is it that bad?"

"You're crazy, Undersee," I shake my head. "You look great." Her cheeks tingle pink and she drops her gaze, not even trying to hide her smile. And honestly, she looks great. She should know she does. God, that dress, the way it molds to her skin, the way the entire thing flares up in sparks with every step she takes. Like I said, she'll win sponsors just with looks. It doesn't help she's practically a saint. We get to the stage and are lined up in a huge arc. We're all sitting out there a moment before the camera actually starts rolling, and Undersee leans across to me, her hands darting to my hair. "What the hell are you…" I trail off as he finger brushes my forehead, it reminds me of the first night here.

She smiles, "Your hair looks atrocious, let me fix it."

"Prisca's probably cringing right now," I tell her. "At least Portia agreed it wasn't the best." She pulls her hands away and takes a moment to analyze her work. While she does so I reach up and twirl one of my own fingers around a strand of hair, pulling it to the front of her face. "You really do look nice."

"So do you," she says quietly. I drop my hand and smile just as the lights boom and Caesar Flickerman marches onto the stage. We both turn as he introduces himself, the Games, and the first person being interviewed. As Glimmer takes the stage I watch Undersee divert her eyes angrily, and I can see why. They may look a bit similar but Madge would never go out in public wearing… that. Not that I'm complaining, considering Glimmer looks hot as hell in that see-through piece of fabric, but it's degrading. Sure to win sponsors though, which is why she's wearing it. Undersee still looks better. Tribute after tribute, interview after interview. Marvel's an idiot, Clove is terrifying, Cato's deadly. Somewhere in the middle I get bored and start just watching the flames on Undersee's dress as she shifts in her seat. It's a good distraction. Rue is precious, Thresh is angsty. He's right, we're a lot alike. He just plays up the angry side more than I will. In fact, I won't play that up at all. But he does a good job at it. I can't help but smile.

Finally it's Undersee's turn to go, her nervous habits quickly disappearing as she strides across the stage, her straight posture and flames dancing behind her. "Woah, woah, woah! You're not going to burn me, are you?" Flickerman asks her as she twirls before taking her seat. The crowd eats it alive, the fire is more than anyone could have expected. My eyes find Cinna in the crowd who is wide eyed, a mystical smile spread across his face.

"Never, Caesar," she cheers playfully. "As long as you behave."

The audience laughs and she flashes them an award winning smile. "Now, Madge, let's get right to it. I know your father was the Mayor back in District 12, correct?"

"Oh, yes," she nods, "he must be very proud I've made it this far." She has a way with words, sweet God it's like she made note cards on exactly what to say. There's no way in hell her father's proud of her, he's probably terrified out of his mind.

"Especially with a score of 8, my dear!" The crowd again is cheering. "How ever did you manage?"

"Well you see, I have a hidden talent," the audience leans forward in their seats, "I wooed them with my piano playing." The crowd chuckles, what a letdown. Charm, she's all charm. I can't even tell if she's being sarcastic.

"That's right, I've heard that you play the piano! I suppose they just wheeled one out for you in training, then?"

Madge laughs, "I'm only teasing. If that had happened then I surely would have scored a 12." Caesar laughs, a genuine laugh, and so does the audience. "You know, Caesar, I've got a few hidden tricks up my sleeve. I'm more than just a pretty face."

"No doubt in my mind, love. In fact, I bet you've got all the boys back home wrapped around your finger."

She shrugs, her cheeks finally sparking a pink. "More or less." Mostly less. "I'm a little intimidating considering I'm the daughter of the Mayor."

"I'll bet. But there has to be a special boy! Isn't there? There is, I can see it in your eyes!"

"Oh, I don't know. He never really liked me much, I don't think. Not until recently anyways." I raise an eyebrow, Undersee likes someone. Undersee did say she had a reason to get home, would it be this guy? Do I know him? She hasn't mentioned anyone; maybe she's just making the whole thing up to get sympathy from the crowd. It's working, I can tell. They're all leaning forward in their seats, hanging on every word, desperate to learn more of this mystery boy. I might be leaning too, I can't tell. "I'm probably just another girl to him."

"Madge, you've got it all. The looks, the talent, you can win this. Mayor's daughter, Victor, you'll be the talk of the town! This boy would be _crazy_ to not like you! You're much better than any of those other girls that could be stealing his heart."

"I don't know, Caesar," she says back. "I don't think it would really work like that for me. Things just aren't exactly in my favor."

"And why ever not? You're stunning, sweet…"

"Yes, but you see this boy, he… he's not really in the District."

Caesar gasps, "Perhaps you favor the affection of another Victor?" A few people in the crowd snicker, some _aww_. No, never, Undersee couldn't like a Victor. She's better than that. But who is it? She's not making any sense.

She laughs, "Well he's not exactly a Victor yet." Caesar goes silent, an eyebrow rising up his forehead. He obviously is unsure of how to continue. Her face goes pale as she realizes what she said. "I mean, he… he…" Undersee's fumbling with her words. What does she mean yet? She can't mean…

"My dear Madge, you couldn't possibly be implying that…" her cheeks flare up and she drops her gaze, the screen flashing to me. The screen flashes to me. I'm on the screen. Caesar looks back at me sadly, then toward Madge again. She's talking about me. She can't be talking about me, this is just some big misunderstanding…

"I told you things weren't exactly in my favor," she adds quickly, her powerful voice now dropping to a shaky whisper. Then the buzzer rings. "Thank you, Caesar."

"No, thank _you_, Madge. I can't wait until you're back in the Capitol so we can hear you play the piano!"

The smile creeps back onto her face. "I'll give you your own private concert," she winks, and then her flames are trailing behind her as she takes her seat again. Her cheeks again are pink as she sees me and I realize my jaw is hanging open. The crowd is screaming and cheering and jumping and yelling. Undersee fiddles with her hands and tugs at the loose strand of hair I pulled forward to her face. They have to call my name twice before I hear it. Slowly with a sudden onset of nerves, I make my way to the stage.

* * *

_A/N: Well... what do you think? Of course, Madge hadn't meant to say that, it wasn't planned. She totally let it slip by accident. Thoughts, please. Criticism and opinions are welcomed. _


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: It doesn't matter.**

* * *

I take my seat in the chair across from Caesar and force the best smile I can onto my face. It probably looks awkward. My legs feel like jelly, my arms are shaking. "Gale Hawthorne!" Caesar cheers, "If it isn't a pleasure to have you!" Madge has made me noticeable, I should thank her later. If I make it through this, that is.

"And to be here, Caesar," I say nervously, fidgeting my seat. Look for Portia, there she is. She smiles and tips her head at me. I'm going to have to talk about Undersee. I'm going to have to act like I like her too. She likes me. Oh, God, she likes me. She was talking about me in front of Panem, I can feel the color creeping onto my face and I'm not even talking about her yet. She's given me an advantage, I have to remind myself of that. Maybe she doesn't even like me, maybe it was all planned. Yes, that had to be it. That's her angle. That's why she wanted to train separately, so I wouldn't be let on to her plan. She did say she wanted me to get home after all, didn't she?

"Let's start simple, shall we?" That confirms the fact that Madge'll be mentioned. "You're taking the Games by _storm_, my boy. The fire at the opening ceremonies, the fire _now,_ lest not forget your training score of a 10!" Maybe I can work this until it's over, maybe they won't mention her. Madge Undersee. Get out of my head, get _out_ of my _head_. Focus on the question. Does she like me? Or was it for the camera? I can't tell, the way her cheeks flared up seemed so real. The _question_, back to the question!

"It's crazy, I know," I finally force out. "Portia, she's an excellent designer," I settle comfortably in the chair. Stay away from talking about Undersee. Avoid. Avoid the topic. God, I know they won't. He'll mention her. I don't know how I feel about that. About this. "I mean just look," I tug on my bowtie and it flames, and the audience gasps. Yes, keep them distracted. That's what I've got to do. "Wonderful. No words. She's spectacular." I glance out in the crowd and see her beaming at me.

"Yes, but you had to get that training score all on your own!" his blue eyebrows shoot to his forehead and he leans over, his hand resting on my shoulder.

"That I did, Caesar, that I did. You honestly think I would let all of my wonderful designer's hard work go to waste? I'm appalled."

He laughs, removing his hand and folding them in his lap. "Most of the time the tributes from District 12 don't do so well," he notes, a bit of sadness to his voice. "But you and your District partner are surely stealing the show!"

"What can I say?" He's going to bring it up. Right now. Diversion, I must have a diversion. "There's always those people that take you by surprise. Most people view District 12 as an outlying District, but once they give us the chance to shine we can do anything."

"You mean spark!" Caesar laughs, and then I laugh too. He reminds me of Effie. Are all the people in the Capitol the same? I have to slip something in quick before they mention Undersee. What do I say? Do I bring up Posy? As I open my mouth to speak Caesar leans toward me intimately, keeping his voice at a whisper as if we're discussing a secret. "Now, Gale," this is it, "you know there's no way I'm going to be able to breeze by the topic your District partner eluded to." _Go along with whatever Flickerman says_, Haymitch's voice rings in my ear. That's it, he knew. Haymitch knew that Madge would say something, I can feel it.

"I was afraid of that," I respond, glancing over my shoulder. Madge has her face down, her cheeks still pink. God damnit. "Madge and I knew each other before the Games, that's true, but we never spoke. She was well off you know? You said it yourself, Mayor's daughter." The man nods, intrigued. The entire audience is hushed. "Well my family… we're not from the cleanest part of the District, that's for sure." A few people in the audience chuckle as if they don't believe me.

"So you never considered your feelings for her?"

"Of course I thought about it, I thought it was stupid. She'd never go for a guy like me." The audience sighs and Caesar's hand is reassuringly on my shoulder again. "Then we're both Reaped… there's not much I can do anymore." My voice is surprisingly steady, the words leaking out of me naturally. "Like she said… odds aren't exactly in our favor. I could win and be Victor and still wouldn't be good enough for her… well, you know why."

"I do," Caesar nods. "I do." I rake my fingers through my hair and lean backwards in my chair slowly. The thought of Undersee dying hits me again and I frown.

"I don't want her to…" don't say die, "…to lose. She's so sweet, so innocent." Honest truth, that's what this is right here. "She's beautiful, she's kind… Madge is everything a person should be."

"And you two haven't talked about this? Before tonight?"

I roll my eyes, "Not much reason to, the Games start tomorrow. How painful would it be to admit something like that only to never… never see her again?" The audience murmurs in agreement and the interviewer's face goes pale, pained.

"Oh dear," Caesar frowns. "Well, Mr. Hawthorne," the buzzer rings and the audience screams, shouting, clawing forward and reaching toward the stage. "I wish you the best of luck… in every way possible."

"Thank you, Caesar," I shake his hand, and then make my way back to my seat slowly. I don't make eye contact with Undersee but I know that she's staring at me, her eyes wide like a doe, probably curious. Did I mean what I said? Some of it. Did she? I have no idea. I have to know, though. Now I have to know. I can't figure out if I'd rather it be an act or the truth. Maybe neither. Maybe both. It has to be one of them.

We rise for the anthem but the cheers of the crowd are deafening. After the anthem we're being ushered back to the elevators. Undersee walks quickly trying to catch up with me but I know we can't be seen together after that. Not in front of the other tributes. They'll target us in the Games, target her. She can't be targeted, she needs to last as long as possible… but why? Why do I want her to last so long if she'll just eventually die? Why do I want her inevitable death prolonged? She managed an 8 in training, that's got to count for something, right? The elevator ride is impossibly quiet. I somehow end up on the same one Rue is on and she watches me curiously from the corner of her eyes. She tugs on the wings her designers put her in. Tribute after tribute until it's just her and I on the elevator. She nibbles the inside of her cheek nervously and as I turn to look at her she drops her gaze to the ground, quickly scurrying off once they reach her floor.

Whatever I said, it was for sponsors. It had to be. But why was it so natural? Why did it come out of me so easily? There's no chance in hell I like Undersee, not like that. Sure she's sweet and pretty and determined and brave but only one of us can come home. Emotional attachments, I can't do that. Tomorrow. The Games start tomorrow, I can't like her. I don't like her. Yes, these past few days have opened my eyes to who she really is, how she isn't an elitist or a snob but someone better, someone against all of this in general. She's a real person, she's got thoughts and emotions and… hell almighty.

I step off the elevator slowly and find everyone waiting for me. Everyone but Madge. "Where is she?" I ask, pushing past them.

"Gale," Portia grabs my wrist. "Don't, okay? Give her a little bit." A little bit of what? Time to breath? What just happen is finally sinking in on me and now I'm angry, confused. Out of all of the times in the world…

"What the hell did she do?" I nearly shout, marching across the room and throwing my hands in the air.

"She gave you both an unfair advantage," Haymitch smirks. "And you helped."

I scoff, "Helped?"

"You went along with it," Haymitch jabs his finger at me. "You played right into it. Open the window, boy! The entire Capitol is in uproar about their precious star-crossed lovers!" I narrow my gaze and Portia rests her hand on my shoulder gently.

"He's right, Gale," she tells me quietly. "People will be tripping over each other to sponsor you. _Both_ of you." I run my hand over my face and groan. I don't know. I don't know how I feel, I don't know how to speak. I stalk past all three of them and force myself into my room, ripping off the tie and discarding it on the ground, yanking off my jacket and leaving it in a heap. My hands keep rubbing my eyes, pulling through my hair. The TV flickers on and shows clips. Me, Madge. Madge and me. Me and Madge right before the interviews started, her hands in my hair as I smile. I'm _smiling_. My hands tugging on a loose strand of her hair. She's smiling. It's so genuine, so heart breaking that I have to turn the TV off before I collapse.

How does my District feel about this? My family? _Katniss_? How do _I _feel about this? I have too many questions that will never get answers, I can only assume. I pace around the room until I hear a door crack, the door not being mine. I pause in my steps, listening to nearly silent footsteps skirting toward the back of the hall, another door creaking open. Now's my chance to talk to her.

I wait a few moments for the silence to settle again, and then I'm also making my way toward the roof. When I get there Madge is already leaning over the edge, the wind whipping at her hair that now flows loosely down her back. She's changed into a white nightgown and she holds her arms tightly to herself to stop her goosebumps.

"I know you're there," she says quietly before I've made my way over. Finally I do, leaning across like she is and staring down at the crowds in the streets below us. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Haven't tried," I mutter back. There's an awkward pause as the screams from below lift over us. "Did you mean what you said?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does," I grunt. She rolls her eyes and tightens her grip around her arms. "Madge,"

"It slipped, okay? I hadn't meant to say it and if I could I'd take it back."

Another pause, "So you meant it." My heart does some sort of twist in my chest, sinking into my gut and coming up my throat all at the same time. I lean over the ledge more so my hands can rub at my face again. "It wasn't planned."

"Planned?" she scratches at her forehead, "Why would it've been planned? What good would that have done anyone?" She frowns and her hands rake through her hair over and over again, but her eyes won't settle. Sharp, cold, the blue is distant and panicked.

"You weren't planning on telling everyone that you…" I trail off because there's no way in hell I'll be able to finish that. That she likes _me_. Me. The boy from the Seam. Me, the extreme asshole that told her she wouldn't be coming here. Me. The illegal hunter. Me… I'm no one special. Not to someone like her, not to the mayor's daughter.

"You really think I'd admit something like that on public television?" she bites out at me. "I've never done anything more humiliating!" Now she's the one pacing, her hair curling around her, her silk nightgown billowing. She's never looked more like a damn angel than she does right now. "I'm sorry, okay? That's all I can say, that I'm sorry. I didn't want you having that guilt with you," her voice gives out. "The whole thing is stupid." She could have lied, she could have said that she didn't actually feel like that. But she didn't. Everything Madge Undersee said about me was true. I suppose she'd rather have the truth out now than never. She doesn't get another chance to say any of this, I don't get another chance to listen.

"I don't understand," I shake my head. "Me?"

An empty laugh escapes her, "Pathetic, I know." I can't help that smile that forms on my lips as I watch her panic. "Don't look at me like that," she snaps. I drop my gaze but the smile lingers on my face. She pulls at the tips of her hair and groans. "I really… I didn't mean to say anything."

"It's alright, Madge," I say eventually. She makes her way back over to the ledge and leans over again.

"You said some things too," she says weakly.

"I know."

Pause. God, there's too many pauses in this conversation. I know she wants to know, why wouldn't she? But I don't quite know myself, how I feel, what I meant. It doesn't make sense. My head is pounding and my thoughts aren't making sense. "And?"

I say the only thing I can come up with, "And it doesn't matter. Games are tomorrow."

"I told _you_," she nearly growls. Of course she's upset, I can hear it in her voice. She has every right to be.

"Yeah, well I don't know. Okay? And it doesn't matter." Her face drops her expression and her eyebrows furrow painfully. "I don't know. I just don't. I don't know." She nods once and then her arms wrap around her again. And like I said, it doesn't matter. In fact, it shouldn't matter. It should never have mattered in the first place. I wouldn't be thinking about it if she hadn't let it slip… I never would've even considered it.

I know she wants more, my answer wasn't good enough for her, but she doesn't linger. Thankfully, she changes the topic. "Are you nervous? About tomorrow?"

"I don't know," I say again. "Are you?"

She shrugs, "I don't know." A lot is unknown tonight. The way I feel about her, the way I feel about the Games starting. I'm numb, maybe scared, maybe nervous. I can't tell. I keep glancing toward her, watching the way her hair blows out from behind her. She nibbles on her lip and her eyes dart around the ground. "We should get some sleep," she finally says. "For tomorrow." As she starts for the door I instinctively reach for her hand, pulling her body quickly toward mine. She doesn't hesitate to reach for me, her hands curling on my chest as my arms wrap around her waist. "Gale," she chokes out.

"It's okay to be scared," I whisper. I feel her shudder against my chest and cling tighter. "It's _okay_." I lower my head to her shoulder and sigh. Again my stomach is knotting, my throat strangled, but she needs me. And in this moment, I need her. I need to touch her one last time, to breathe in her scent of strawberries and vanilla, to feel her hair in my hands. I've got to remember her after this is done. The innocence of Madge Undersee. She sniffles and eventually pulls away, I reach down and wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"Good luck tomorrow," she says through a raspy voice.

"You have to fight," I tell her firmly. "Promise me."

Amazingly, her lips lift into the smallest smile. "I will."

"Promise."

"I promise." Her eyes flicker with something, some sort of determination like she has a sort of plan, and then she wipes her own eyes. "Thank you for teaching me to shoot."

"You're a good shot," my voice is gentle. "Good night, Madge." She nods once, her hands finding her hair again, and then she quickly disappears back down the stairs. That's the last thing I'll ever say to her. Good night. And the truth is that it hasn't been too good of a night. I stay up there for a long time after she's gone, watching the lights flicker across the skyline, listening to the cheering from below. I think about Posy and her tiny voice begging me to win. I think about Vick and Rory, how they'd have to deal with losing another father figure if I died. I think about Katniss, how she'd take what happened tonight, if she'd ever talk to me again. I think about Madge, the way her hair feels, the way she smells. I think about her hand clinging to my chest. I think about the knotting in my throat. I think about the Games, and how no matter what happens, I lose. I lose her.

* * *

_A/N: This chapter was a bit hard to write. I wanted the scene on the rooftop, the final goodbye, but I didn't want it to be like Katniss and Peeta. Also the interview, I wasn't exactly sure how to go about that. In the end, however, I'm happy with what I've written, and I hope you are too. _


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: How can you repay that?**

* * *

Portia comes into my room before the sun comes up and for a moment I'm confused as to where I am. She rests her hand gently on my arm and wears a sad smile. Instead of saying anything she just hands me some simple clothes and waits for me to get changed. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and try to understand what's going on. She leads me to the roof quietly, her hand on my arm the entire time. It's reassuring, I'm glad she's my stylist. A hovercraft appears and the ladder is let down. I touch it and I'm instantly frozen, the sensation is frightening. I'm lifted inside and then injected with some sort of tracking device. Moments after I'm released, a sharp pain in my arm where they shot me, Portia is raised up next to me.

She hasn't said anything thus far and I'm sort of grateful for the silence. She just takes my hand in hers and squeezes lightly, guiding me to the food and tipping her head as if to say _eat_. I'm nervous if I eat I'll throw it up, but I have to force something down. "Gale," she says quietly. I sip at a glass of water and lift my eyes to her. "It's okay to be nervous."

"I'm not nervous," I say back. Portia's eyebrows lift to her forehead and again, her smile is sad. "Stop looking at me like that."

"See, you _are_ nervous," she says lightly. I swallow tightly and avert my eyes to the window that are suddenly being blacked out. "We're getting closer." My stomach knots and I sit back in my chair, deciding that I've had enough to eat. I resort back to silence, so does she. After awhile we're finally at the arena, being led down a tube into the catacombs of the arena. Instinctively I reach for Portia, who grabs my hand gently. "It's okay," she says again. It reminds me of Madge, how I said the same thing to her last night. How is she? Is Cinna keeping her calm? She must be scared.

Portia doesn't let go of my arm until we're well secured in the prep room. Everything is new, everything will only be used once. For me. I swallow but it won't go down and then I cough to clear my throat. Tears are stinging at the back of my eyes and my legs suddenly feel like jelly. "Gale," Portia cups my face and pulls my gaze up to her. "You can do this." I jerk my head into a nod and start pulling my clothes off. "Tell me something. Anything."

"I miss my family," I falter. My shirt is on the floor and I have to take a deep breath. "It was my brothers first reaping and I kept thinking, God, anyone but him." I push myself off the wall and continue to strip down. "I never thought…"

"Something else," she says. "Don't talk about this." Her eyes widen as she glances around the enclosed room.

"My little brother Vick, he uh, he's not the one I was worried about. He's still too young." She nods and takes a seat, watching me pull off the rest of my clothes. "He liked bugs. Like, collecting them I guess. My mom hated it, she'd always make him put them back outside. He had this jar that he'd collect fireflies in during the warmer months." She guides me over to the shower and hot water pounds on my back, I sigh with the relief it provides. I make sure to scrub every inch of my body. "And my little sister, Posy, she had this doll," my voice cracks and I rub at my face, taking another deep breath. I have to go on, I have to tell someone about my family, someone who cares. Portia cares, Portia will listen and understand me as best she can. "My mom made the doll because we didn't have money to buy one but Posy didn't care… she never cared about any of that. She just loved that doll…"

I step out of the shower a few minutes later, unable to say anything else. Portia rakes her fingers through my hair until it dries. "Your hair looked much better after Madge fixed it last night," she says lightly. I know she's trying to make me less nervous but it just stabs me in the gut. "Sorry," she says when I cringe. The clothes are delivered to the room and I slip into them wordlessly. A light green shirt, a thick hooded black jacket. "It reflects body heat."

"So it'll be cold," I grumble.

"At night," she nods. Portia makes me sit and then laces up my boots for me. Soft leather, much like the kind I had back home. Good for hunting. No, perfect for hunting. "You didn't have a token," she says sadly.

"I don't need one," I tell her. Still she frowns, her hands returning to brush through my hair once. "Portia I can't do this," I choke out suddenly. Her eyes posses a certain sadness and she shakes her head. "I can't, I can't do this, I can't _kill_ people…"

"Look at me Gale," she forces my head into her hands and jerks my chin up so I'm lookin at her. "You're different. You're different than all of them. You have a reason to fight, to get home, and unlike them you _won't_ let _anything_ stop you. Think about Posy and Vick and your other brother."

"Rory," I stutter.

"Posy and Vick and Rory. They're rooting for you. I'm rooting for you. I know you can do this. I _know_ you can. You'll be back and I'll be making you up for the Victory Tour before you know it. Okay?" I jerk my head into some sort of a nod and she smiles lightly. "It's only been what, three days since I first met you?"

"Just about," I nod slowly.

"Over that amount of time I've watched you change. You're not as angry as they all think you are. You're scared. You're kind."

"Portia," I grumble.

Her smile brightens a bit, "But most of all you're determined. You're a real winner. You don't let people fall behind, you try your best to help others."

"I can't really do that here," I nearly snap at her.

"But you will," she says gently. "You're going to have to do what it takes to win," she means I'm going to have to kill. "And you'll do it." I lock my jaw and force another nod. "You won't be letting them win if you kill," she whispers to me. I know she doesn't mean the other tributes win, she means the Capitol. "You'll always be you. You won't lose yourself. I know you won't." I'm going to have to kill people. People are going to try to kill me. Kill, kill, kill until the water runs red and I can't see anything other than black. That's what I'll have to do, but I'm not doing it for the Capitol. I'm doing it for Posy and Vick and Rory, the family that I have no choice but to get back to. "You're stronger than them."

I get up from my spot and start walking around the room, flexing my arms and stretching to see if everything fits right. "You never asked me about the interview," I tell her as I pace. Portia frowns and guides me to a chair, mumbling something about how I need to save my energy. She calls for a glass of water and I sip at it. "Why didn't you ask me about the interview?"

"You cringed when I said her name," Portia says softly. "Why are you bringing it up now?" I divert my gaze down to the cup and start drinking from it again. I don't know why I brought it up. "If you want to talk about it we can."

"I just want to talk. About something. Anything." I don't want to think about the metal plate that's a few feet away from me. The plate that'll be lifting me into the arena shortly. I need to think about something else, something that isn't Madge. Something that isn't killing and something that doesn't remind me about the shaking of my hands.

She nods as if I'm going to say something else, but I can't. I don't know what to say. "She's going to be alright, Gale," Portia says weakly. "She's a lot stronger than you think." I go back to rubbing my face, I need something to do with my hands. "So are you. You're so _strong_." I nod and a pleasant female voice calls out to us, telling us to prepare, and then I'm shaking my head. Portia stands and pulls me to stand as well. My legs feel like they're going to give out from under me. My knees are weak, my throat is dry. She hands me the glass of water again and I chug the rest of it.

"Tell my team they were great," I whisper, pulling Portia into my arms. In her heels she's nearly as tall as me and I can't help but smile at the awkwardness of the situation. "Even Prisca."

Portia smiles, "Tell them when you get back." She leads me over to a circular metal plate. "I'll see you soon, Gale."

"Portia," she takes a step back and keeps her face calm and collected. "Thank you. For everything." My hand reaches around and grabs at the nape of my neck, my eyes scanning the room for the last time. A glass cylinder lowers around me and I catch her wink. A steady smile spreads across her face. And then she's gone. Suddenly its dark, its dark for what feels like forever although I know it must only be a few seconds, and then I'm raised up, the scent of pine trees smothering me, the light of the sun blinding.

I blink once or twice, confused, momentarily thinking I'm back home, that this has all been just a terrible dream, but then the voice of Claudius Templesmith rings out around me. "Ladies and gentleman, let the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games begin!"

* * *

The timer on the Cornucopia is already ticking down as I adjust my vision. Cruel illusion of home, this is the arena. But I have an advantage, I realize. The similarities to my own woods must be spot on, I'll be able to maneuver this place like the back of my hand in no time. My eyes dart around the golden mass before me, taking in everything that I can. Backpacks, crates with medicines, water, food, clothing, anything I could ever ask for is all waiting there for me. Including a bow and arrow which leans right against a crate, as well as a few spears. They're too far in, I don't even considering getting either now.

It should be easy enough to get a knife though, that's what I'm going to have to do. I glance at the clock again and only a few seconds have gone by. I start making plans in my head. A few backpacks aren't too far from me, I can try and pick at least two up before heading straight for the woods. That's what I'll have to do.

My eyes pick up to study my competition. Everyone poised, ready to run. I look for Thresh who is about to dive into the bloodbath. I even study Rue who nibbles on her lip. And as hard as I try not to, I look at Undersee, bouncing on her toes impatiently, a scowl of indifference masked on her face. She doesn't look at me, won't look at me, her eyes are transfixed on the little girl, little Rue. I glance between the two confusedly, why is she so worried about her? They're rather close in distance, only about four tributes away from each other… and then the gong rings out. I jerk my head and lurch forwards, my feet start running before I realize I'm moving. My heart pounds in my chest, the sound of the gong still ringing in my ears.

I sprint as fast as I can, picking up the nearest backpack to me slinging it over my shoulder in one swift motion. It's too light, I need more. Farther, I have to go farther into the bloodbath. Grunts of agony ring out and I know the killing has already started. I keep my eye open for a flash of blonde hair but it doesn't pass me. Someone lurches at me and I jab my elbow back into their face before they can get a good hold. Their nose crunches, they whimper. I'm getting too far in, their blood is smeared across my elbow.

Posy. Rory. Vick. Watching me right now. I can't die yet. Not here. Not like this. I dive for the closest backpack, dark red, stuffed to the brim with goodies. Someone tackles me on my side and I grunt, reaching forward to pull them off of me. Their hands go for my face, my hair. My head rears back and then forwards again, sending a driving impact onto their forehead. It's a boy, I can't remember his District. In too far, I'm in too far. With him off of me holding his hand to his forehead and scrambling uneasily away, I take the opportunity to glance up. Wrong move. Another boy is already on me trying to yank the pack I already have on my back off. This one's stronger than the last one, he's succeeding. I hear the _swoosh_ of a knife, a grunt of pain, and then he collapses over me without another sound. Blood leaks from his wounds and I push his body away from me, struggling to pull myself onto my feet.

He coughs, he's not dead yet, his sticky red liquid splatters onto my shirt. In too far. Yelps of pain, cries for help, people begging for mercy. My heart beats loudly in my ears and my feet won't grip the ground below me. I strap the backpack tighter around my back and reach for the red one in front of me again, not even daring to look at the boy who's choking on his own blood. He's gone, I can't help him. One person closer…

I need the red pack and then I'm good as gone, I can escape into the woods and make due for a bit. That's all I need, the red backpack. I give myself a few seconds to look up, to catch my breath. Cato has just reached the interior of the Cornucopia, the boy from 4 following right after slapping him on the back approvingly. Glimmer slings the quiver of arrows over her arm and Clove scans the crowd once more and spots a tribute off to the side, she doesn't hesitate to chase after her. My hand reaches forward and wraps around the handle of the bag as I prepare to run. There's one on one fighting, people skewering the area for supplies, and then there's me. It's too good to be true. I stand up, spinning around and preparing to run when I come face to face with the girl from 7. She jumps on top of me, thrashing her hands and clawing at my face, trying to lift my head and slam it back into the ground as hard as she can. Her hands reach behind her and she grabs something, presumably a knife, and my body goes stiff.

This is how I die, there's no way I'll be able to get her off. Her legs are wrapped around my chest and the surprise of the attack has got me pinned. "Get up you idiot," I hear Thom's voice. I blink once, a tall lumbering boy coming into view as the girl is suddenly slumping against me. She chokes, drops the knife from her hand that I scoop up quickly. "I said get up!" Thresh slings the red pack that I dropped over his back and pulls me up, his eyes flicking toward the Cornucopia. Satisfied, he pushes the girl so she's laying, still gasping for breath, air. I pull my view away and cringe as he pushes my shoulder. "Come on," then he races away quickly, and I follow him without question.

He saved my life. Thresh saved my life and I can't find the words to say anything, to thank him. I froze when that girl attacked me, I could've been gone. Would've been if he hadn't… done something to her. I don't know what he did to her. But she's gone. We don't talk for a long time as he leads me into the grain field; our feet keep up a consistent jog as we casually throw glances over our shoulders. This is the complete opposite direction of where I wanted to go. This area is foreign to me, I feel lost in the smothering strands of wheat. The cannons start to fire and we pause in our trek, raising our heads to listen. 1… 2… 3… 9 cannons. Nine. Only 9. There's usually at least 15. Is Madge one of them? What about Rue? Any of the careers? Thresh drops his packs and lets out a long whistle; I drop mine too. He deeps this a safe place to stop, I have choice but to listen to him as of right now. He saved me. "Why didn't you kill me?" I keep my distance for a moment, my eyes narrowed. "I was about to die, why didn't you just let me?"

"I said we'd be stronger together," Thresh crosses his arms strictly, narrowing his gaze as well. "Can't have an alliance if the other one's dead." We lock eyes for a moment and he smirks, "Would you rather me have let you die?"

"No," I snap.

"Good, glad we agree on that then. Open your pack, see what you've got." I raise an eyebrow and he lets out a laugh, "I'm not gonna kill you Hawthorne, now open your damn pack." I lower myself to the ground and extend a hand, he shakes it. Thresh isn't Thom, but he's the closest thing I've got right now. A little reminder of home. A District token in the shape of a person. "Allies?"

"Final 8?" I suggest.

"Sounds like a hell of a plan to me," he dumps his bag upside down with a smile, and I slowly let one slip onto my face as well. I know he won't kill me, and if he does he'd do it painlessly. That's always a bonus. But he won't, I know he won't. I can tell. For this moment, I feel safe, I feel content. I force the feeling away from me knowing I should never feel like that in the arena. Never. I can't let myself sink into a feeling of happiness, I need to always be on the watch. "What do you got?" I lower myself to sit, resting on my knees awkwardly as Thresh does the same.

I scan the items before me curiously, it's a decent amount of things. "Some glasses," I pick them up and place them over my eyes, "but they don't work very well."

"Night vision," he points at them, pulling them into his hands and analyzing them. "What else?"

"Rope, first aid kit, er… extra socks." Thresh snorts as I hand them to him. "Sleeping bag, oh here's a knife." I pull it out and analyze it, serrated edge, good for skinning animals after you've cooked them. Good for stabbing, too, I guess. A shiver runs down my spine as I place the backpack down. Maybe that's how Thresh killed that girl. By stabbing her. "That's it." Thresh has two more backpacks, the one he picked up himself and the one he got while rescuing me. He rescued me. I owe him. We get a few more knives, dividing them evenly, a sling shot which he takes, two water bottles, another sleeping bag, matches, water purification drops, a few packs of dried food, some jerky and crackers too. We're pretty well off for the first night in. "What do we do now?" I ask as he breaks a piece of jerky in half, handing me one and saving the other for himself. "We've got to get some water."

"Tomorrow when the careers go hunting," he says.

"What about tonight? I'll do it over by the lake." We won't last long without water, he must know that. My throats already dry, I wish I had that glass that Portia offered me earlier today. Portia, that feels like so long ago. Hours, that's all it can be. I wonder how she feels about my alliance. I wonder how anyone feels about it. How do _I_ feel about it? I told myself I wouldn't, I told Madge I wouldn't, but here I am sharing jerky with a stranger. "I'll use the glasses and everything."

"Hey if you're up for it then be my guest," he smirks, nibbling lightly on his food. I'll consider it my payment for him saving my life. Getting us water. I glance around the field that were in, surely it's some sort of grain. Thresh notices me watching and he lounges back on his hand. "I figured they wouldn't come in here. Not yet." I nod, knowing he means the careers. We make simple conversation, strategy, what we're good at, what we'll be doing to survive. I try not to tell him too much. It's pretty calm for the first day of the Games, it could feel like an overnight trip in the woods. But it's not, that's Thresh not Katniss, and a cannon firing in the distance is what reminds me of that. We stare at each other for a moment but drop our gazes instantly. The same questions are going through our heads, was it the people from out District? Innocent Madge? Unjustly reaped Rue?

We eventually fade out of conversation knowing we shouldn't get too friendly, and then the sun slinks in the sky. Purples and blues illuminate around us, a bright moon filling the arena. I wonder if it's the real moon, it doesn't look like it. Just a projection. Moments later the Capitol anthem is being played, I suck in a sharp breath. This is it. She could be gone. Maybe if I close my eyes instead of seeing her picture… The boys from 3 and 5 and the girl from 6, both from 7, both from 8, the boy from 9 who coughed up blood on me, both from 10. The sky goes dark. I wonder if Thresh feels guilty killing someone, I wonder if anything I did contributed to a death. I don't feel any different. Should I feel different? I hear a breath of relief from Thresh and find myself doing the same. Madge wasn't in the sky tonight. I'm not sure if I wish she was, if I was this was just over with already. I don't want her to be in pain, to be suffering.

"Where do you think she is?" he asks weakly. "Rue?" Up to this point I hadn't known he cared much about her. Of course he would be concerned, but I never figured he'd bring it up. Just like I won't bring up Madge.

"Up a tree, nestled safe and sound," I supply him with the answer I deem fit. Maybe it's true, maybe it isn't. I don't know. I hope it is. I don't want to think of the careers holding her as a hostage or with her arm broken… she's only 12.

"What about yours?"

I clench my jaw, the thought is unsettling. "Up a tree. Nestled safe and sound." It's all I can bare to think right now. That Madge's safe, sleeping, hopefully with a sleeping bag. I wonder if she's cold. Hungry? Dying of thirst? There's no way to know, I shouldn't care either way. My last words to her were goodnight, not see you later. Goodnight. Now I just have to pretend she's sleeping somewhere. That when she's gone she'll just be sleeping… "I suppose I'll go get some water," I grumble, grabbing the water bottles and the glasses. "If I don't come back, don't look for me."

"Take this," Thresh tosses me a knife. "Watch your back." I nod and slowly make my way in the direction of the lake, thanking the grain that blows in the wind for the cover it gives me.

* * *

_A/N: Well? I'm not really sure how to go about Thresh considering we didn't get much of him. I like my Thresh so boo ok. There won't be much just wandering around like Katniss had, this'll jump straight into action. Give me your thoughts, please. _


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Easy first night**

* * *

The trek to the lake isn't as long as I thought it would be. The rush of the first day must have made us feel like we went deep into the wheat field but really we were only just inside of it. I keep myself crouched and keep an eye open, but a cannon off in the distance causes me to think the careers are hunting. It's the first night and they're weeding out the weaklings. I wonder if the cannon was for Madge. I wonder if every time a cannon will go off if I'll associate it with her.

With a minuscule groan I reach the edge of the lake, the wheat drifting in the wind behind me. I lower myself so I'm lying against the ground in case anyone was to be watching they wouldn't see me. I lower the water bottles into the lake and watch as they fill up slowly. Not bad for the first night of the Games. I can't say what I expected. Constantly running, knives whizzing by my head. As of right now that doesn't look like the case. Once all the water bottles are filled I make the walk back to Thresh and where we set up camp.

As I trudge along the ground my footsteps slowly start getting heavier, but definitely slow enough to be noticeable. I glance back at the ground and realize that I've managed to wander right into a pit of quicksand. Quicksand. On the first night. And it's going painfully slow. I continue to walk but now I switch so I'm going backwards toward solid ground, making sure it doesn't get any higher than my knees. I've heard that the more you move the faster it is but I have to get out of it somehow.

"This is the biggest joke of my life," I groan as my knees get covered with the sloppy mess. First night of the Hunger Games and I'm about to suffocate in quicksand. My eyes dart around until I see the ledge, the end of the trap, and realize it's about two arms lengths away. I continue to move in that direction despite it being nearly impossible. Up my thighs slowly it gets harder and harder to move. With a grunt I lunge toward the side, landing face first in the quicksand. I heave myself up quickly before it can pull me under.

Think, I've got to think! I can't just wait here to die, and there's no way in hell I'm calling out for help. I take the water bottles and toss them out of the trap. They're right on the edge of the sand, they're what I have to reach for. My hands dart around my body looking for something I can use, _anything_, and then I remember the knife. I pull it up and quickly scan it, trying to keep my thoughts in a straight line. What good is a damn _knife_ going to do me? I rub at my temples and look back at how far I have to cross. The quicksand is up over my waist and I'm running out of time. It's compressing my legs and I can't even feel them anymore. Where does quicksand even lead? Is it just a bottomless pit? Does it have ground at the bottom? Over my hips, against my stomach.

I'm not dying tonight.

Without even thinking I lunge toward the ledge again, driving the knife into the ground with such a force I'm scared I'll break the point. I don't quite care at this moment, however, and I'm ever grateful that Thresh had me take this. With the knife in the ground I'm able to pull my body, slowly and strenuously, toward where I threw the water bottles. Each time I pull the knife out of the ground I dig it in farther back so I'm able to eventually crawl onto the plain. Once I'm fully up I throw my head back, looking up and staring at the sky.

I'm being too careless. I'm letting the ease of the first day overwhelm me. I squeeze my eyes shut and force images of the bloodbath back into my brain. Only hours ago was I about to die over a backpack. Only hours since that gong rang. Throats being slit, chests being stabbed. Not going to happen to me, I'm not letting that happen to me. I'm not letting nature take me if I'm going to go out, I'm fighting until the end. I can fight, I can _hunt_, how much different can it be? The thought of hunting reminds me that we're going to need food soon. Then I realize I said _we're_.

Quickly I make my way back to Thresh, avoiding the seemingly harmless area of sand. I keep my eyes on the ground and watch every step I take to make sure it's safe. I pause frequently to make sure I'm not sinking, and what feels like hours later I'm finally back to Thresh. He's not poised to attack, I wonder if I would be. What if I had been a career? Another tribute?

"I was starting to think the cannon was you," he notes.

"Could've been," I mutter back, tossing a bottle at him. He reaches into the bags and pulls out the purification drops, squeezing in the right amount before I send another his way.

He raises an eyebrow at the state of my clothes and snorts, "It's the first night."

"Thanks, I'm well aware of that," I grumble. "Quicksand. I knew this place would be loaded with traps. Probably loads of poisonous creatures just waiting to attack us." I rake my hands through my hair and try to scrape the drying quicksand off my outfit. "We should go to the woods tomorrow."

"Excuse me?" he laughs emptily. "We're plenty fine right here."

"Wheat might be your sanction but woods are mine," I lounge back like he was and look back at the sky. "Besides, we've got to hunt. Not going to last very long without some sort of protein."

"You go then," he waves his hand. "Come back with your food and then we can have a feast."

"I need someone to cover my back."

He raises an eyebrow and turns on his elbow to face me. "Alright Hawthorne, we can go into the woods. But how ya gonna hunt? All you've got are some knives and rope."

I smirk, "All I need's the rope."

Thresh laughs, returning to gazing at the sky. "Alright, alright, but let's wait a few days, yeah? I'm not a fan of the excitement." I snort at his choice of words and agree. We make plans to go into the woods in two days. Not tomorrow, but the day after. We'll only be there to hunt, then we'll return to the wheat field considering none of the other tributes seem to have taken a liking to it. Thresh takes first shift of watch considering I went to get the water. It takes me awhile to fall asleep, I don't exactly know if I trust him yet. Not only that but my thoughts keep pulsing through my head. They're filled with a blonde screaming my name, begging for help that I can't give.

Eventually I wake up to the sound of a cannon. The sky is still dark blue but seems to be lightening up a bit. Thresh takes my sudden movement as a tradeoff between sleeping so I take the next watch. It takes him awhile to fall asleep too, but I don't mention it. He's probably thinking about the same thing I am, who the cannon was.

* * *

The next day is fairly quiet. Thresh goes off to collect some sort of edible grain while I sit at the camp. I want to go into the woods more than anything but I know Thresh was right, its best to let things cool off a bit. Besides, mostly everyone will be in the woods, the other tributes. The careers are probably right by the Cornucopia though, setting up camp in an easy to reach spot. I sit at the camp and count supplies, and recount them, and count them again. I don't, however, count the cannons. I don't need to. They'll show us all the people who died later tonight.

"So tomorrow?" Thresh asks, handing me some sort of weed to eat. I eye it at first but he chews on it so it makes me think that it's safe. "Into the woods?"

"I'm just going to set some snares," I nod. "We can come back right after and then go and check it a few days later." Thresh nods as if that's a good plan and we continue to chew on the grass. "What is this stuff, anyway?"

"I can never remember the name," he says back. "My dad showed it to me before he died. There was a lot in the field outside my house. I used to stuff my pockets with it before I went to work so I wouldn't get hungry halfway through." I nod, understanding that he must've lived in a poorer place like me. "Did you work?"

"You don't start in the mines until you turn 19. I would've started in December. When did you start?"

He laughs, "I started in the fields when I turned 14. Sunday was the only day we got off, only not when it was harvesting season. It felt like they made every season harvesting season."

"What about school?" I ask. The curiosity gets the best of me, we never learn about things like this in our textbooks.

"The second you get off they send you to the fields. You don't even stop at home. Some people were lucky and got rides, most of the time I had to ride my own bike." I raise an eyebrow at the image of Thresh on a bike. "Hey, faster than walking." I laugh and he places another wad of the grasses in his mouth. "Is that all it is for you? Mining?"

"For me? Yes. For other people? Not always." I scrunch my nose thinking of Undersee. "The people from town could pretty much do anything if they got hired. A lot of it was family businesses though. I mean it wasn't always much better but as long as you're above ground I guess that's a plus." He passes me a water bottle so I can take a drink. The grass isn't totally disgusting but it tastes a lot like dirt. Considering we're trying to save our food supply until we're near desperate I'd say it isn't half bad.

"What about that girl from your district? Would she have just been the next mayor?"

I drink more water than I should because I don't want to talk about her. "Probably. They hold elections after the old mayor dies but because she's grown up with it she'd probably be good at it."

"That's what they do in my District too."

I laugh, "Look, we found something similar." Then he laughs too. Today felt easy. I guess it was easy. For us, anyway. The Gamemakers must have thought that quicksand was enough for our little alliance, that we'd be dealt with later. Maybe they thought we were as strong as the careers and wanted to save us for the final fighting. That second thought makes me cringe and I quickly push it out. I shouldn't question why it's been easy. I should accept it.

The anthem plays and Thresh and I pause to watch the names in the sky. The first face to greet us shocks me, it makes my stomach clench. The girl from District 1. Already out of the running. "What the hell," Thresh mutters under his breath. She was a career. There's no doubt in my mind that the other careers are working in a pack, but she's already out. Maybe she was too annoying for them to handle? Maybe she got bit by something poisonous? The options are endless but it's still an unbelievable thought. I think back to her in that see-through dress, the way she whispered about Undersee on that first day of training. The rest of the pictures go by but I'm too busy thinking about Glimmer being dead, wondering how it's possible.

"Who's left?" I ask, nervous that I missed Madge's picture.

"Boy from 1, both from 2 and 4. Girl from 3 and 5, Rue, and yours." I let out a sigh of relief and pull my hand through my hair. Still alive. He pauses for a minute and scratches his head. "How'd she die?" He's asking about Glimmer, I lift my shoulders into a small shrug.

"Someone killed her," I decide. There's no way anything natural could have happened to her. There are medicines and sponsors that would have made sure of that.

"Yeah, but who?" Again I shrug, but he lets out a deep breath. "One less." I nod in agreement but also wonder the same thing. "What was her specialty?"

I think for a moment, she wasn't good with the spear or the sword. Maybe hand-to-hand combat. I remember her being fast on the training obstacle but Madge beat her out for the top score. Slingshot? Knives? "Couldn't tell you."

He snorts, "Yeah. Me neither." Then I laugh too. Maybe all she was good as was being appealing, maybe she hoped she'd get in the arena and other people would protect her. "I saw her pick up the bow once. Aim wasn't too bad."

"Wasn't too good either, apparently," he snorts again and the smile I had stays on my lips. Suddenly I'm wishing for a subject change, anything to get this playful banter about death out of the air. She's dead. She's _dead _and there's no saving her anymore. I just disrespected the dead. My mother is probably fuming at the television, my father probably rolling in his grave.

Thankfully, Thresh provides a subject change. Unthankfully, it's not the subject change I wanted. "Do you worry about her?"

"About who?" I snap. I know he's not talking about my mother.

"Your partner." There's a pause. "I worry about Rue."

"That's different, Rue's 12." For some reason that isn't an acceptable answer and he narrows his glare. "No. I don't worry about her. She can handle herself."

"You're lying," he nods. "I saw your eyes when I said she was alive." I clench my teeth and he grins. "Told you." With a groan I lay back down, staring up at the holographic sky above us. "We can find them, if you want."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I mean we're allies, why can't they be allies with us too?" I sit up again, leaning back on my arms and sharpening my glare. "She's _12_, Hawthorne. 12 years old. Am I not supposed to worry about her? I want to make sure she's safe, alright?" I lift my eyebrows but hold my glare. "I knew her before. Before the Games. Barely, but we had spoken once or twice." I can't form the word _oh_ but I know my face takes on that form. "We lived in the same neighborhood. I still see her house in my head. She had so many little siblings…" he shakes his head and then presses his palms into his eyes. "She's _12_. We can find her. We can keep her safe, yours too and then…"

"And then _what_?" I bite. "All four of us just ride the hovercraft out? There's one winner. _One_. Not two, not four. But one. Even if I want to find Madge there's nothing I can do. It would make it worse." _Don't ally with friends_, that's what Haymitch told me. _It makes it worse_.

"Would you rather her win? Your girl?"

"She's not my girl. We're done talking about this," I clench my fists. "Alright?"

"So what you said at the interviews wasn't real then? You didn't like her?"

"I swear to God," I hiss at him. "Stop talking about her. Please. Please stop talking about her."

The worst part of the entire thing is that he's not even trying to make me mad, he just wants to know. I just can't talk about it. He honestly cares and would like to comfort me in some way or another but I won't let him. "So you _did_ like her," he says quietly, his eyebrows contorting and a frown morphing onto his face. I've found the difference between me and Thresh. He's good at pretending to be hostile when really all he wants to do is talk. He can hide his emotions on camera but they spill out of me. He has actual feelings in person. Me, on the other hand, I'm good at pretending to talk and awful when it comes to real emotions. I'd rather never talk about this. Ever.

"I said we're _done_." I haven't had time to think about my feelings for Madge and I don't _want_ to have time to think about them. She's going to be dead soon. I might be dead soon. Either way one of us is going to be dead and I don't want to address whatever I'm thinking. It doesn't matter. "It doesn't matter." I drop my head into my hands and rub at my face. "I'll take first shift, you can sleep."

"I know we're not exactly friends," Thresh says, "but you're allowed to talk to me."

"Not about her," I lift my head. "I'll talk about anything but her."

He frowns and forces out, "Sorry." Thresh scoots into his sleeping bag and lies down but doesn't close his eyes. I wonder what he's sorry about. "She seemed like a nice girl."

All I can say is, "She is." Of course Madge is still a nice girl. How is she out in the woods? I know that's where she went, it's what I told her the most about in training. Has anyone tried killing her yet? Maybe she's got sponsors that are making her life easy. My stomach clenches, maybe she joined the careers. Accepted their offer.

"What was her name again?"

"Madge," I whisper. Again I drop my head into my hands. "Her name is Madge."

"Maybe I should take first shift," he sits up and scoots out of his bag. "You'll be the one doing all the work tomorrow. You should be more rested." I know he's only offering because if I'm up I'll be thinking. He knows that. Now that he's mentioned her I won't be able to get her out of my head. "Gale, she's fine."

"I know," I say weakly. And then I crawl into my own sleeping bag and turn away from him. I don't know how I feel about Madge, I never had time to think about it. Even lying here with seemingly all the time in the world I don't have time to think about it. How her tears seeped through my shirt or fingers danced across my forehead when I was drunk. The sound of her laugh. The way she slapped me. I can't think about her but at the same time I have to remember her, and it isn't fair. None of this is fair. The only feeling I'm certain of when it comes to Madge is an ache deep in my stomach. I'm not sure what it means.

* * *

_A/N: Gale and Thresh off into the woods tomorrow! I wonder what will happen hmmm. How do you like Thresh? What about Gale? Am I doing alright with the characterization? Give me your opinions please. Criticism is your friend and mine!_


	12. Chapter 12

Thresh and I pack our bags in silence, I keep glancing over at the blues that crawl up the horizon. I wanted to leave earlier than this but Thresh isn't one with the woods, he didn't know any better. I'm not going to snap at him either, especially after last night or the fact that he saved my life. I have to keep reminding myself that this isn't a camping trip or a night out in the woods, this is the Hunger Games and he could snap any time. I think I had him wrong from the beginning though, I always saw Thresh as a monster. He's just terrified. He wants to go home. He'll only be a monster if he has to be.

We move quickly through the wheat and tighten our backpacks over our shoulders. They're a bit heavy considering we have everything and anything we got in them but I'm not complaining and neither is he. We don't want someone stumbling on our riches in the wheat field while we're gone. A sleeping bag alone can save a life, imagine if they found our entire stash of supplies. When we reach the part of the wheat field that connects with the woods I feel Thresh tense up.

"You watch my back I watch yours," I tell him. "Right?"

"Right," he mutters back. His eyes dart toward the Cornucopia where there are tents and chairs spread out. My best guess is that all the careers are in the tents, sleeping, while someone else keeps watch. There's one person outside who looks like they should be guarding supplies but they seem to have dozed off. "Boy from 1," Thresh says. I bet he wanted watch considering his partner died, maybe keep an eye out for whoever did it. Maybe he didn't care at all and it was just his shift outside. Still, I wonder how it happened.

We stalk a bit more into the woods, constantly checking over our shoulders at where the tents loom. I don't drop the nervous attitude until we're deep enough into the forest and we can't see them. I take a moment and close my eyes, take a moment to breathe. If I pretend hard enough Katniss could be here, quietly stalking a deer or down the river picking berries.

"Gale," her voice is annoyed. I can see her scowling, strands of hair loose from her braid and cascading down her forehead. She balls her hands and drops them down to her side before crossing her arms irritably. "You're not going to catch anything if you just stand there."

"Come on, Hawthorne," Thresh mutters, effectively shattering my daydream, my reminder of home. "What the hell are you doing? Sniffing the air?"

"Sorry," I say back, scrunching my nose. These aren't my woods. They're just woods. And if I don't get the feel of them now I might never see my woods again. I scan the area looking for tracks and am pleased to find what looks like deer. That, as well as some fox. Plenty of rabbits. Thresh keeps watch as I string up a snare. I wish I had wire or coil instead of rope, but this is all we've got and I plan to make the best of it. A few feet later I set up another. In total I've left about 5 different traps. One of them is bound to catch _something_.

"Hawthorne," Thresh whispers. "I think we're being watched." I reach for the knife and snap my head around.

"Where?" my voice is just as quiet. He scans the area and tips his head a bit. He goes to move forward but I hold up a hand, causing him to stop. "Just wait." And so he does, although very impatiently. I can tell his nerves are shot, but I don't think what he heard is a person. They're incapable of being still for so long, too quiet. I narrow my eyes as a rabbit pushes itself from the bushes, Thresh panicking and chucking his knife at the animal.

I laugh before I can help myself, the knife missed the rabbit by a long shot. As it keeps hopping, panicked and scurrying to get away, I fling my own knife, pinning the rabbit down by its foot. Thresh scowls, walking forward to retrieve the dying creature. "Didn't know you were good with knives," he mutters.

"Didn't know you were scared of rabbits," I jeer back with a grin. He tosses me a glare before pulling the rabbit into his hands, snapping the neck quickly. He tosses me the animals and I turn around to place it in my backpack. "We'll come back in a few days to get whatever we caught. Cool?"

"Nah, you can," he shudders as we start walking back toward the edge of the forest. "The woods creep me out." I bite my tongue. It's not that I won't do it alone, I'd just rather not. I'll have to get used to it however. "Can we get out of here now?" I force a nod, glancing up at the trees and breathing in the pine for as long as I can.

"Go now," Katniss tells me. "Or you'll never be able to leave." I snap my eyes open and flex my arms backwards, stretching my shoulders. She's right. I think back to that morning, how I suggested that we run away. Me and Katniss in the woods, we could've made it. What would have happened when they called my name, though? When no one took the stage? I shudder just thinking about it, that life is gone. If I am to win like I'm planning then there's no going back. I won't even need to hunt anymore, I'll just get whatever I want.

Things with Katniss will change too, especially considering she was, no, is friends with Madge. Will she look at me like I couldn't save her? Will she look at me completely different considering what I said in the interviews? I haven't had time to think about my feelings for Madge considering I'll never get the chance to explore them, but with Katniss? If I win then I'll get home but I'll surely have to kill someone. Maybe Katniss'll see me as a monster. Maybe she won't look at me at all, but that's not Katniss. I'll get back and she'll run into my arms crying about _something_, God only knows what, and then things will go back to normal.

But they won't be normal, and I won't be the same me. Sure, I always thought Katniss was beautiful. She _is_ beautiful, she could get any guy that she wanted if she would just talk to them. She's resourceful, opinionated, bright. Katniss could always make me laugh. But what was what we had? I would always compare Katniss to the girls I had flings with, weeklong romances and make out sessions behind the school bleachers. I never regarded Katniss as someone to do that with, she was honestly just a really good _friend_, that's what I admired about her so much. She didn't think anything of my looks or the way I went from girl to girl. If she had an opinion on it she never spoke it. Maybe if things had been different then we could have gotten together, but now? I'm starting to see what she meant about not having kids. I don't know if I want them either. Not anymore.

Besides, I never loved Katniss like that. I loved her as a friend, a little sister that I needed to protect. Our personalities were too similar, we clashed too much. I recall many afternoons in which she'd leave angry because I said something that upset her. I did that a lot. We never had anything romantic, probably never would. I know she never thought of me in that way, and only once or twice had my thoughts strayed to it. It can't have been anything more. She was my Catnip. _Is_ my Catnip.

"Hawthorne," Thresh grumbles, grabbing the collar of my jacket before I saunter into the field. I've been too preoccupied by my thoughts to realize how close we are to the Careers camp. "Tryna get yourself killed?"

"Lost in thought," I snap back. We pause on the edge of the forest and watch them for a minute, the other tributes. It's surreal, watching them laugh, high five, toss food and weapons back and forth like it's an actual game. "Do we wait for them to hunt? Do we go now?"

"We wait," he says, taking a step back. I clench and unclench my fists to give myself something to do. Thankfully it doesn't take them too long to sharpen their weapons before they're racing into the woods. One girl stays back, the girl from 4, and that's when we make our move. Thresh and I take turns crossing over into the wheat field even though both of us could take this girl by herself. Eventually we're both in the field and walking normally next to each other. "Watch your step," he reminds me, but the longer we walk the more that slinks back into my memory. His too because we both walk without a care.

I keep conversation light, sticking to strategy. Especially after last night. "So we're evading, not attacking?" Thresh jerks his head into a nod and I slip my hands into my pockets. "Sounds good."

"Man, how do you like the woods?" he shudders. "I feel like I've got spiders all over me."

"Yeah, because wheat doesn't itch when you sleep on it," I grumble back. He snorts, "Woods are peaceful."

"Woods are full of giant animals," Thresh says back. "Fields are full of plants we can eat." I say nothing, continuing the trek silently. "I'm surprised Rue didn't take to the field, actually. She probably knew plenty to eat in here."

"No trees for her to climb," I say weakly. His go to conversation is always about Rue, which means Madge will most likely be brought up shortly. "She's safer in the air." His head bobs in some sort of nod, I know he wishes Rue was with us. I think if Rue were to be with us then I'd end up going off on my own. I'd never be able to kill her, she's 12 for Christ's sake. I wouldn't want to get attached to her. I wonder if I'm attached to Thresh because we're allies. I mean, I've got his back and he's got mine, that's sort of our deal, but what if someone were to attack him? Would I sling him over my shoulder and nurse him back to health or would I just carry on? He saved me once, do I owe him?

A sudden hissing noise is what causes us to freeze in our tracks. "What the hell was that?" Thresh mutters, reaching for his knife. I've seen snakes before, heard them hiss and watched them lunge at their prey, but not like this. A snake at least four feet long slithers in front of us, its eyes darting back and forth between the two of us. "Jesus Christ," he scowls. Produced by the Capitol, most likely meant to take one of us out. Slowly we start out steps backwards, but that's not going to stop the inevitable.

"Think it's poisonous?"

"The hell kind of question is that?" Thresh says back. "Of course it's poisonous you _idiot_." Just as we think we're in the clear, the snake lunges. "Hell," I hear Thresh curse, a knife whizzing through the air. I jump out of the way and fall onto him, pushing him out of the way too.

"Go," I mutter. "Go, go!" He pushes himself up having dodged the first attack and continues his path. I reach for the knife in my pocket as I pull myself off the group, picking up the knife Thresh dropped as well. My aim is better than his, this shouldn't be too hard. Then again, I haven't exactly been attacked by snakes before. As I'm stumbling backwards into God knows what sort of traps, the snake lunges for me again. It attaches to my ankle and I use my free foot to step on its head, getting its teeth out of my skin. I chuck the first knife down, the creature writhing in pain. My vision starts to go hazy as pull up the other knife. "Hell," I flinch every time I try to walk with the ankle it gnawed on.

A few more steps backwards I chuck the next knife, watching the snake stop its movements at once. Headshot. My skin feels like its on fire as I turn looking for Thresh, nowhere to be seen. I clamber forward and peel the knives from the snake, bringing my foot down on its head one last time before I look for Thresh again. My head is too light yet drooping at the same time, I can't keep my eyes open. As I stumble around blindly trying to make sense of my surroundings I trip on a rock, falling backwards and making contact with the solid ground.

* * *

All I hear is her screaming. She screams my name again and again as the boy from District 2 holds a knife to her throat. Every time I try to go after her I crumble due to my ankle. "Madge!" I scream her name back, "Madge!"

"_Gale!_" she's pleading for my help. I ignore the pain in my ankle and run, bursts of agony every time I land on that foot. Finally I reach the Cornucopia, the hulking boy has her in a headlock. "Save yourself!" I ignore her warning and charge forward, reaching in my pocket for the knife I carry only to find my pocket empty. Her neck snaps before I realize what's happening and then her body transforms, she's no longer Madge. She's Posy. Without hesitation I charge for Cato, threatening to break his neck with my bare hands, but he's gone when I reach him.

I stumble forward, falling over my baby sister and cradling her in my arms. And then she starts screaming. Blood leaks from her eyes as she pushes me away. "You'll be like him!" she says. "You'll be a monster!" I jerk backwards and land on my hands, pain spiking up my senses and tingling in my fingers, in my toes.

The world I'm in fizzles, disoriented images sliding back and forth, morphed noises and screams. The wheat field catches on fire as Madge runs out of them, laughing in her sparking blue dress. "I won't burn you if you behave," she giggles, spinning as fire licks the ground around her. Snakes flee the burning field, rushing after her with anger in their eyes.

"Madge," I croak, forcing myself to my feet despite my pain. "Don't let them…" but she continues to laugh and to spin and eventually, the flames of the field reach me.

"You are the boy on fire, after all," her voice carries over the crackling of the logs. Up my ankles, up my knees, it's like the quicksand all over again. Only this time, I can't save myself.

* * *

The air is hot and muggy and I force myself out of my sleeping bag. Thresh sits on a rock whittling away at a stick. He glances toward me once as I blink myself awake, and then back at his own work. I rub at my eyes and swallow, searching for something to drink. My throat is raw, my head is aching, my stomach growls. I want something to eat. Without even an exchange of words Thresh tosses me a water bottle, as well as a few crackers.

"Take it slow," he tells me. I nod although I wolf the crackers down in seconds and chug half the water. Without even asking what I want to know, he answers. "Two days. One death. Girl from 5." I nod and rub at my eyes. "Snake bit you, obviously whatever was in its teeth messed you up. You collapsed, I built camp around you. Props on killing it, by the way."

"Yeah," I croak, flinching when my voice cracks. "How many days did you say? Two?"

"About to be three," he continues whittling. "We're on the third, anyway. No cannons thus far, however."

"Gotta get the snares," I peel my sweat soaked jacket off of my back and toss it to the side, kicking off my shoes as I sit up and examine the bite on my ankle. "Jesus Christ," I poke at it slowly, cringing as it sends pain up my spine.

"You're not going anywhere," Thresh says back, chucking his creation at me. "You've got to build your strength back up. Career's will be getting antsy, they'll want to invade the field. We've got to be ready." I shudder as I think about the entire thing being set on fire like in my dreams. I drop my head into my hands and rub at my temples. "Who's Posy?"

"My sister," I snap, lifting my head from my hands quickly. "Why?"

He shrugs, "You said her name while you were out." There's a pause before he adds, "Madge's too."

"Thanks for that," I reach for a bag and dig through it until I find something else to eat before my stomach starts disintegrating. "Snake bite you?"

"Nah, you pushed me out of the way." That, to me, is enough for him saving my life the first day. He didn't have to experience the nightmares, the venom that sliced through my veins. "Thanks." I nod once before shoving some sort of jerky in my mouth. "I was starting to think you were gonna die."

"Surprised I didn't," I say back through a mouthful.

"What did the venom do to you?" he asks. He's curious, of course he is. Whatever happened to me could have happened to him if I hadn't shoved him out of the way.

"Nothing pleasant," I reply. I'll leave it up to his imagination. Every time I blink I see Posy crumpled on the floor, I hear Madge screaming for me. "I'll go get the stuff we snared now," two days, almost three, surely something has to have been caught. I'm craving meat, I'm betting Thresh ate the entire rabbit. I don't blame him, I would've done the same.

"I said no, you've got to get your strength up." I'm about to hiss at him, something about how he isn't my mother, but as I go to stand I end up collapsing due to my ankle. "One full day of rest then you can go. If we're not forced out of here before then." I think back to him talking about the Career's getting antsy, I bet the Capitol audience is too. They want death. They want spilling blood and screaming victims. "Then we feast."

I nod, finally agreeing to his plans. "Then we feast." If I can manage to stand, that is.

* * *

_A/N: We get to see Madge again in the next chapter. Poor Foxface is already out of the running :c Thanks for sticking with me thus far!_


	13. Chapter 13

Thresh puts me on lockdown, not letting me get up unless I'm testing my ankle. He even goes out and gets the water for the bottles himself. Not that I'm complaining, but I'm dying to get back in the woods. Or to move. I can't sit here forever, my brain is going to implode. I feel useless, I feel like I just owe him more and more because of all the favors he's doing for me. There haven't been any deaths recently and I know people are getting antsy; they aren't going to enjoy watching two guys sit around all day and bicker.

The more time I spent with Thresh the more he reminds me of Thom. His scowl, the way he raises an eyebrow, how he calls me Hawthorne. I even call him Thom once and then laugh at myself for the slipup. I miss Thom. He's kind of an asshole but he's my best friend. I'm sure watching me say his name will make him laugh, or at least smile. He's probably being interviewed by the Capitol camera crews, forcing him into spiffy clothes to ask about our friendship. He'll probably complain about the itchy tie or something of the sort, but not when the cameras are around of course. Maybe he and Katniss have developed a sort of friendship, complaining about itchy Capitol clothes together. I laugh to myself at that thought, the thought of Katniss actually talking to people.

"Get up," Thresh tells me, pulling me to my feet. I scowl at him but follow his orders.

"Yes, mom." I know he's trying to make sure I'm on my best game considering I can't have his back unless I'm able to walk, but the thought of him actually caring about my health is somewhat strange. Sometimes I wish he'd just kill me off now instead of pretending to be friendly. I often wonder _why _he doesn't just kill me off while I'm weak.

"Funny, Hawthorne," he rolls his eyes. "Now walk around." I do so effortlessly, there's barely any pain in my ankle now. If I am to cringe I force it back so he doesn't notice. "How's it feel?"

"Peachy," I mutter back, collapsing back on the ground. "Can I go get the snares now?" After much deliberation, he finally lets me go. Not that I wouldn't have just gone eventually, but I feel like I have to check with him. He did kind of save my life. Twice. Besides, if I have to check things over with someone before doing it I feel more like a normal person instead of someone fighting for their life. With the bit of routine we have I still feel civilized.

I make my way through the wheat field, a backpack stored with things I might need tightly fastened around me as well as a knife in my hand. I glance over toward the Cornucopia and find someone on watch again, which means that the Careers must be out hunting. It's well into the day, there's a chance that they could find me while I'm collecting whatever the snares caught. If they caught anything. I scowl at myself, of course they caught something. They're _my _snares, I always catch something. The thought of the Careers however… it makes me jumpy. There's five of them and only one of me. Sure I could take any of them if it were a one on one battle but it isn't, it'd be one on four. Then, if it were possible for me to take all four down, the one that had been on watch would go out of their way to find me.

I distract myself from the thought of my perhaps imminent death with collecting snares. Of course I'm right, my snares produce a splendid meal for me. The first snare has a rabbit, the second too. I shoved them in my pack and continue through the woods.

As I'm making my way to the next snare I keep myself pressed against the trees, out of the main path the animals would take. The tracks the animal left keep a trail right in between the trees. If I cover them up with my own then I'm not only making myself an easier target but I'm making it much harder for myself to track the animals. Besides when I'm pressed against a tree I don't have to worry about someone behind me.

That's when it happens. The moment when I decide that I'm pretty safe in my stance. It _happens_ so _quickly_ I don't even have time to register what's actually going on. I take a step to the left and my ankle, my _ankle _is being pulled into the air. Out of shock I drop my knife, and it lands in the middle of the trail. And then I'm hanging upside down. By my own snare.

I rest my head backwards and clench my teeth shut, I can already feel all of the blood rushing to my forehead. Thankfully I didn't cry out in shock, I would've alerted everyone in the proximity around us as to where I was. Also, thankfully, I'm not legitimately upside down. I can't reach my ankle with my hands but I'm able to turn my head every once in awhile for a few seconds and let it become un-muddled.

If I could reach my ankle, though, then I'd be free. I just have to untie it, un-loop the knots. I lean on my elbow, knowing the trap isn't meant to hold someone my size up for too long. My fingers reach for the knife in the middle of the trail but it's just out of distance.

I've been caught by my own snare. I'm the biggest idiot I've ever encountered.

I'm basically a prize for whoever walks by! I can almost imagine the Careers finding me, their weapons poised. Oh, they'd have a laugh with me that's for sure. Careers torture their victims if they get the chance, they'd have plenty of fun with me. With a grunt I slide the backpack off my shoulders, trying my best to keep quiet in case someone is around. I dig through the supplies I packed looking for something, _anything_ to cut myself out of this stupid trap I set for myself, but it's useless. I try for the knife again but it's too far.

If it makes it any better it's the ankle that the snake bit. Now it's throbbing and aching all at the same time, Thresh would kill me if he found me like this. Then he'd laugh at what an idiot I am.

I look up towards the rope around my ankle, and then I realize it isn't rope. It takes me a moment to process this, that I didn't set this snare. This snare was set with wire, thick industrial wire that could keep me here for ages, not rope. I try pulling myself up with it but I don't last for more than a few seconds. This isn't my snare. But it is. I created this snare back in District 12, back in my own woods. I invented this. I'm the only one that knows it, but I didn't set it.

That's when I remember I taught this snare to someone else while we were back in training. And just as I'm figuring out who it is that actually set the trap a ruffle of leaves off to the distance catches my eye. I pull my backpack up to protect my face, as if that'll do much good, and then they come into view. They have an arrow aimed directly at my heart, and they aren't going to hesitate on taking me out. Madge Undersee has caught me in my own snare.

I can't even force out words, if I could there isn't a chance that they'd be appropriate. The shock of seeing her, alive, in the middle of the woods, a scar down her cheek, a certain black to her normally blue eyes, it startles me and renders me unable to speak. She drops the bow and rushes forward, her eyes returning to the gentle blue I recognize. "Gale?" the word spills out of her as she pulls a knife from her back pocket. She doesn't hesitate to cross the trail, doesn't hesitate to drag the knife across the wire. "Jesus Christ." Madge is alive. Madge is okay. Madge has a scar down her cheek, dirt and sweat glistening across her features. The image is almost laughable, Madge in the woods. Her hair is knotted up in some sort of bun, not graceful in the least. Yet she still possesses a certain calmness, an air of being the mayor's daughter.

"Hey," I finally get out a word. Her knife continues on the wire, sawing back and forth. She says nothing else, so I figure I should. "Nice to see you,"

"Wish I could say the same," she retorts, a smile playing at her lips. God, her smile is incredible. I never thought I'd see it again. See _her_ again. Yet here she is, cutting me down from a snare. Why is she cutting me out? "You think a hunter would know how to avoid traps." Even in a time like this her tone stays teasing.

"You think someone who was actually trying to catch an animal would put the trap in the middle of the trail," I grunt, turning so I can watch her movements. I absorb the way a few strands of hair fall out of her elaborate updo and frame her flushed cheeks. She's not as light as she was before this, her skin it turning a bit tanner. "Not where the hunter _walks_."

"I'm not a hunter," she says back, her voice lifting playfully.

"I beg to differ," I mutter. Anyone who sets a snare in hopes of catching something is a hunter. It doesn't help that she actually caught something, _me_.

"Damnit!" she nearly shouts, but her motions stay fluid as she saws back and forth. "I can't get this stupid wire cut!" I go to mention how I'd help but my knife is in the trail but there's blood clouding my thinking and I feel like I'm going to pass out. "Stay with me," her voice is rough as her eyes flicker down at me. "Gale, stay with me." I want to tell her how she can just undo the loop but I can't find the words.

"Get me out of this," I groan, shaking my ankle violently. Finally my ankle falls and I lay backwards on the ground. "Jesus, Undersee," she kneels next to me with a smile, reaching for my knife in the trail and handing it to me gently. I pull myself into a sitting position and lean against the trunk of the tree, blinking a few times as my vision returns to normal. She sits next to me, rifling through the backpack I brought with me.

I'm almost about to yell at her, question what she's doing, when she pulls up the water bottle. "Drink this," she hands it to me carefully, making sure my hands are firmly wrapped around the plastic. I smile gratefully, twisting the top off and pouring the water into my mouth slowly. "How long were you there?" her eyes skirt across my features, trace the curve of my nose and the wrinkle of my shirt.

"Few minutes," I say. "I think." I could've been there an hour for all that I know, it's not like I have a watch. I sip at the water as she continues to watch me, her lips pressed into a smile she's trying to suppress. Before I can stop myself I lean forward, my hand trailing over the cut on her cheek. "How the hell'd you get that?" It's mostly healed now, although it's definitely going to scar. On the plus side it doesn't look infected.

Her hand rests over mine, soft, gentle, "Long story. No time." She goes to stand but I lunge forward, wrapping her in my arms again. "Gale," her voice protests my actions but her arms don't, snaking around my own neck and holding me close. "You've got to go, _I've _got to go." But I don't want to let her leave, I want her to stay here. I start thinking about the last time I saw her, the way she stood poised on that metal plate. I think about the night before, how I held her in my arms and told her to fight. She fought, she's still fighting.

"I'm glad you're okay," I murmur. Her grip tightens and I drop my forehead to her shoulder. "Come with me," the words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them, and once they're in the air I don't regret them. I've been so starved for human interaction with someone other than Thresh, so desperate to talk to someone that won't treat me like an ally but like a friend. I've been going crazy trying to piece together what I know about her, how I feel about her. I just want her safe, I want her to survive as long as humanly possible. With my request, however, she pulls away, her hands dropping into her lap and her face contorting into a frown. "Madge, come with me." I can protect her, I can keep her safe.

"I can't," she shakes her head. The look behind her eyes is sharp, blues and blacks mesh as her eyebrows narrow sadly. "One winner." She chews on her lip as I study her face, maybe for the last time. She's covered in dirt, caked in wilderness, and she's still utterly beautiful. Suddenly her features contort, she snaps her head backwards. "Do you hear that?" I turn my head too, my eyes narrowing as if that will help me pinpoint the noise.

"What is that?"

Then, out of nowhere, she whistles. Her lips form a perfect _o_ and she lets out a four note tune, sending it through the sky. She whistles until the birds pick it up, and then she pulls herself to stand. "I've got to go." I watch as she closes her eyes, waiting patiently for the tune to fly through the air above her.

"Madge," I stand after her, and then she throws the quiver into my hands. "What are you…"

"I'm a lousy shot," she admits with a smile. "I got them for you, just in case I… you…" I sling the quiver over my shoulder as her cheeks spark with pink. Before she can leave I pull her into another hug, I need to savor her one last time. "We've got to go!" Her voice is muffled against my chest. "Gale, that sound, it's…" I release her from my grip as the noise flares up again. Literally flares up. I know this sound, but not to this extreme.

We both turn, Madge reaching for the backpack I've left at my feet and handing it to me quickly as her eyes widen and she stumbles backwards. In front of us is a wall of fire, and it's moving faster towards us than we'll ever be able to run away.

* * *

_A/N: Okay, okay, I _had_ to have the fire. They are the tributes on fire after all!_


	14. Chapter 14

"Gale, run!" Madge shouts, pushing me forward. I keep my eyes open as I leap over logs, dodge branches. In seconds the entire world around us is filled with fire, the air filled with smoke. Moments ago we were sitting, having a conversation, and now we're running for our lives. I don't know how I do it, honestly, how I maneuver through the falling trees and burning pillars in the woods. I keep my eyes open for animals but I can't seem to find any, they must have fled earlier or haven't fled at all. I was hoping I would be able to follow their steps but that doesn't seem to be the case.

"Madge!" I call back to her. I need to know that she's behind me. If not I'm turning around.

"I'm following you," she chokes out, "so watch your step!" I nod despite the fact that she probably isn't watching my head. This is no accident; this fire was created just for this purpose. There haven't been enough deaths to satisfy the audience, and having both the girl _and_ boy on fire in the same area is basically an invitation for this sort of trap. I force my shirt up my nose and breathe a sigh of relief; it's coated in sweat which gives me a bit of a filter from the smoke. An entire tree collapses in front of me and I freeze in my step, Madge plummets into my back. "What did I…" she looks up as the tree burns, then grabs my shirt and pulls me to the left. My footsteps follow after hers until she trips over a root, landing on her wrists. She screams in pain and I drop down next to her.

"Are you alright?" I ask, paying no mind to the fire circling around us. She forces a nod although tears are pricking at her eyes and I grab her waist, pulling her up before she can protest. I know she must still be in pain but we don't exactly have time to sit and nurse the wounds. Suddenly I start coughing, heaving until I can't breathe and I have to pause to catch my breath. I can't stop coughing; it feels like a lung's going to come up sooner or later.

"Gale!" Madge screams and her eyes widen. I turn around to see what she's staring at and jump in her direction, throwing her out of the way. A fireball sizzles in the spot we had been standing and she pants. "What are they trying to do? Kill us?"

"Yes," I force out between choking coughs, and then she stifles a laugh. The sound makes me nervous in this situation but I can't wipe the smile from my face. That is until another fireball is shot in our direction. I grab her body and pull her out of the way. A tree behind us goes up in flames and Madge's eyes widen as she continues to stumble backwards from it. She picks up her pace despite unable to carry on much longer, fatigue is evident on her face, and attempts to hop over a log. Her legs aren't long enough and she doesn't give it enough bounce. The cuff of her pants catch on fire, she rolls on the ground to extinguish it while grunting in pain. Charred skin covers her leg and parts of her pants dissolve when she touches them.

"I'm going to be sick," she murmurs, pushing the crumbling fabric away from her body. She's been inhaling too much smoke; Madge never pulled up her shirt like I did. I keep my eyes peeled as she takes a deep breath, pulling her shirt over her mouth like I have. "Let's go," my eyes widen again as another fireball fizzles behind her, a quick spark signaling it's coming right for us. Again I don't hesitate, leaping onto her and pressing our bodies flat against the ground. Her body makes hard contact with the ground and I smother on top of her. "You're heavy," she croaks out.

"Sorry," I mumble, pushing myself off and helping her up. She holds her stomach as I quickly reach into my bag, pulling out the water bottle and handing it to her. Madge turns around and dry heaves a bit, it makes me wonder if she's had anything to eat. "Drink this," I force it into her hands and keep my eyes on watch as the fire closes in on us.

"We've got to go," she chokes out again, but she sips at the drink all the same. She's sweating and her eyes are stinging with tears. She blinks a few times and croaks out my name, widening her gaze in my direction.

Before I'm able to move again the fireball catches my left shoulder, I wince and let out a hiss through my clenched teeth. I hold curse words back and make my way to her as she squeezes the water bottle on my shoulder. "Now," I mumble, unable to get my words to sound audible. "Now!" She stands up and we start running again. The water bottle finds its way back into my hands and I hear Madge on my tail. "Stay behind me!" I shout, no longer able to feel anything in my arm or my hand considering they're both covered with red welts. I run and I duck and I dive and roll until I'm on the edge of the woods. Only then do I turn back to see Madge. The problem is that she stopped following me.

Panic gnaws in my stomach and I hear a cannon ringing in my ears. My heart drops as I stumble into the wheat field, the effects of the fire finally beginning to wear off. I collapse and gaze up at the sky. It couldn't have been Madge, but what if it was? I wait a few minutes, the sizzling of the woods behind me, and take a few breaths. I just have to wait. I have to wait for the picture in the sky. If it's Madge… God, what was the last thing I said to her? She to me? I think she called me heavy. That's it? That's all I'm going to get? Her forcing me back on my feet as she sips from my water bottle, I can't remember. I can't remember.

I turn on my side and vomit my breakfast up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand before slowly getting up and trekking toward base camp. My entire body is covered in ash, I feel like I'm submerged in smoke. I shrug my shoulder every few feet to see if I can feel but all I get is a spike of pain. I try to focus on other things, the fact that I saw Madge and that she was alive. She might still be alive. Her blonde hair knotted up and spilling down her face, the way her eyes met mine. Curiosity overwhelms me as to how she got that scar across her cheek, as to how she manages to keep herself alive. Does she hide and wait for attackers, does she attack them? Eventually I decide that isn't the thing I should be focusing on and I think back to the meat. I didn't get to check all the snares but I got a few and that should last us a bit. I'm just craving meat. I force my way back to camp and throw the bag in the center before collapsing backwards.

"Well, if it isn't a pleasure to see you too," Thresh mutters, reaching for the bag and pulling out what the snares caught.

"Did you hear a cannon?" I mumble, pulling the hand I can feel across my face. Despite not trying to think about it, I have to. She can't be dead, she was just there, just here. I was just holding her, I swear I could smell strawberries and sugar. That wasn't my imagination, that was her, she was here.

Thresh raises an eyebrow, "No?"

"I heard one," I choke out. "I think it was Madge." Thresh says nothing but starts to skin the rabbits. "Are you sure you didn't hear a cannon?"

"Yeah," he says. "No cannon." As much as I try to trust him on this I can't. There are plenty of things that could have sounded like a cannon to me, plus I was panicking and rushed. If it wasn't a cannon then I abandoned her in the woods. If it was then I let her die alone. What's better? Neither. Neither are better. I squeeze my eyes shut and peel my jacket off of me so I can get to my shoulder. "Damn, Hawthorne, what the hell happened?"

"Fire," is all I force out.

His lips curve into a smirk, "Very suiting for you." I groan and reach for the water bottle again, I don't need him going off about how I nearly ensured that trap for myself considering my opening ceremony costumes. I pour a bit of the water onto the wound and cringe, it makes my fingers tingle.

"Fireballs are shit," I groan. "Why does everything happen to me and not to you?"

"You're the boy on fire," the smirk stays plastered on his face. He went for the comment anyway. "It was only appropriate you burn." I ignore his remarks and start to dig through the backpack we have stuffed with medical supplies, looking for anything to stop the burning. I find one cream and spread it over only it doesn't work as well as it should, stinging a bit more than necessary. "Where'd you get that?" Thresh motions towards the quiver stocked with arrows and the bow that I threw down alongside the backpack.

"Madge," I say. I turn back to the arrows and a grin creeps onto my face. I forgot I had them. She gave them to me, she forced them into my hands. Madge. Her name makes me cringe, she might be dead.

"Wait, so you saw her?" he narrows his eyes and pulls the new weapon into his hands. "I thought you were just assuming the cannon was hers." I thought he didn't _hear _a cannon.

I flinch as the thought of her dying hits me again. "Yeah I saw her," I fiddle with the tube of medicine in my hand and scrunch my nose.

Thresh raises an eyebrow, "And you didn't kill her? She didn't kill you?"

"She saved me," I tell him. "I couldn't kill her. Not because she saved me but because she's Madge, she…" I scrunch my nose and throw the tube on the ground. "Forget it." Thresh nods once and I take the new bow and arrows into my own hands, forcing myself to think of something other than the blonde that haunts my thoughts. The Games just got a bit easier with this new advantage I deem myself to have. I could sit in a tree and just take out my opponents, I can hunt now. I twirl through the arrows, all 12 here, and pull them out to inspect each. One of them catches my eye, and then I realize a few of them are covered in some sort of dried substance. "What's that look like to you?" I ask, handing one of the arrows over to Thresh.

He takes the point carefully into his hand and studies what I'm talking about around the tip. "Looks like blood," he says. "Where'd she get these arrows?"

"I don't know," I take it back into my own hands.

"You don't think…"

"I don't know," I say again. And it doesn't matter, I remind myself. I sincerely doubt Madge killed anyone with this bow and arrow, and if she did then she did it to stay alive. If she had been good with the bow, good enough to hit someone, then I doubt she would have given them to me. There are a million things I need to be thinking but I just can't, all I can hear is her voice, her gentle voice so quiet in my ear.

She was following me, she was right behind me, and then she wasn't. I could've saved her, should've saved her. "I didn't hear a cannon," Thresh suddenly says. He must see the agony on my face as I contemplate her basically imminent death. "Considering I was sitting here the entire time I doubt there was a cannon. Okay?" I nod, maybe it's better if she dies. "We'll just have to wait for tonight." If she dies now then I won't have to deal with the pain later. I'll just have to deal with it now, force my way through the Games without the thought of a pretty blonde.

It wouldn't matter anyway. Only one of us can go home. I'll have to face it eventually, especially if I plan on hopping on that hovercraft when this is all over.

I busy myself the rest of the day by going to the lake and washing my new weapon. It's weird scraping dried blood from them, I'm sure it isn't animal blood either. By the time I make my way back to Thresh he's got both rabbits skinned and a nice fire started, roasting a bit of what I caught.

The sun slinks into the sky and I keep trying to move my shoulder. I don't know if I should let it air out or if I should wrap it in something. I literally have no idea. I knew I should've paid more attention to Mrs. Everdeen when she was healing miners on her kitchen table. Katniss would run away and cringe but I happened on a few burns once or twice while stopping by the house. I squint my eyes and try and figure out what to do when I realize Haymitch hasn't sent me jack shit since I've been here. My eyes snap all the way open and I stare at the sky, half expecting him to read my thoughts and send a silver parachute my way.

"Man this hurts," I mutter, wondering if I can get the clue that I'm in antagonizing pain and need his help. "Any sort of medical help would be _great_." Thresh raises his eyebrows amusedly, also looking towards the sky.

"Not gonna happen," he laughs. "Your mentor obviously dislikes you. Likes to see you in pain." I make no mention of how his mentors haven't sent him anything either.

"I'm just hoping he's passed out drunk and Effie will pester him when he wakes up," I tell him. I know it's not going to happen though.

Thresh and I feast on our small strips of fresh meat, I openly sigh as I take the first bite. The juices flow into my mouth as I wipe my lips on my sleeve. Nothing has ever tasted better. Nothing. No amount of Capitol food can compare to this meat in this moment, this sweet taste that trickles down my throat. As we fill our stomachs without wasting too much food the Capitol emblem rises in the sky.

I watch for the picture of Madge to flash by but it never does, I let out a sigh of relief. There has, yet again, been a lack of deaths. I know it must be frustrating some of the Capitol citizens, but hopefully the fire that I fought through today will be enough to keep them settled. I also can't help but think about Madge, why she was whistling, if she got to wherever she needed to go. My stomach aches as I wonder if she made an alliance with the careers after all. Maybe she just wanted to get back to her camp before anything happened to her. I remember she didn't have on a backpack, didn't have anything with her but the arrows. Maybe that was all she had and she's been living off the wilderness.

However, there's an announcement and it pulls me from my thoughts. I nearly laugh at the idea of it being a feast, we're good here for a bit longer without having to strangle other people for food. Others might not be, but we are. My assumption that turns out to be wrong. No one's being invited to a feast. "Hello tributes!" Claudius Templesmith is calling down to us. "Firstly, I would like to congratulate all who have made it this far!"

"As you should," I mutter. Quicksand. Poisonous snakes. Fire. It hasn't exactly been the trip of a lifetime.

"However, there is some exciting news I would like to share! For the first time in history, there is a rule change!" I turn to Thresh and raise my eyebrows, finding him doing the same in my direction. "If the two remaining tributes are from the same district, _both_ shall be deemed as Victors! That's right, two tributes shall become Victor's if they are the last ones standing. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" Two. Two winners. Me. And Madge. Me _and_ Madge.

I pause as I try to process the thought but then notice Thresh moving out of the corner of my eye. Without hesitation I reach for my bow, loading it with an arrow and aiming it at him, pulling the string back and threatening to release. When my eyes focus I realize he's holding his knife up, poised to throw. "We find them," he says. "Once we find them then we split. Deal?"

I eye his weapon, "You gonna kill me?"

"No, are you gonna kill me?"

"Not right now," I smirk. He lowers his knife first and then I lower my bow, keeping the arrow drawn just in case Thresh decides to change his mind. "Tomorrow?" I know exactly where to find Madge, and then I'll even help him find Rue.

He nods, "Tomorrow." He takes first watch, saying something about the fire wearing me out, and I let him without questioning. Maybe he'll kill me in my sleep. Maybe not. I'm too high on the idea that Madge and I will both be going home to care.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long! I rewrote this chapter a zillion times and was still iffy about the final outcome. Thoughts? _


	15. Chapter 15

As Thresh and I pack our bags for our trek into the woods I notice he's got a smile on his face. It's probably excitement; I know I'm excited, although I'm trying my hardest to keep a straight face. He said he knew Rue, the girl from his District. I don't know how well but it was enough for him to feel like he has to protect her. Two winners, the announcement still rings in my head. I don't think I got a wink of sleep last night because of it. I keep thinking about her, about Madge. She's still alive after that fire, but I have no idea what type of shape she's in. I pray that the fire didn't get her too bad, that she made it out alright. Hopefully she's strong enough to get back to the tree where I was snared up.

Madge is smart, she has to know that's where I'll be going. Hopefully she goes there too. "Are you ready?" Thresh asks me, a smirk evident on his face.

"Yeah," I nod and we start walking towards the woods. The sun beats down on us and causes us to break a sweat within the first few feet. "Do you think the careers are going to stick together?" I ask. Thresh considers this but eventually nods. "What about the boy from 1?"

"They'll probably keep him until they don't need him anymore, unless he went off on his own." We travel in silence for a bit, listening to the wind carry through the woods. "Okay so we find them, then we split. Yeah? Divide our supplies?"

"Sounds like the most logical thing to me as of right now," I agree. We've already got our supplies divvied up in the bags that we carry so it would make sense to just split. "Thanks for saving my life," I add before we reach the woods. "You were right, we lasted longer together."

He snorts, "I'm just sick of some stuffy career winning. You're tolerable in the best of moods, Hawthorne. That's it." I scrunch my nose at him and he laughs. "You saved my life too, or well from that snake anyway. So we're even. We don't owe each other anything. Deal?" Again I nod, sounds like the most logical thing. It clears the air meaning we don't have to risk our lives for each other anymore, that the alliance is as good as over.

If I'm being honest it's going to be weird not having Thresh there to bug me about what's on my mind. Like I said, he's my reminder of home, he's just like Thom. We worked well together too; it wasn't like we didn't get along. He knew about some things and I knew about others. We were a great team; I can only hope Madge is a suitable replacement. "So are you going back to the field then? After you find her?"

"Who, Rue? Yeah, I think so. I'll see what she wants, I guess." I wonder how Thresh feels about having Rue as extra baggage. It's a nice thing that he's doing, trying to save her life and all, but she's sure to weight him down a bit. She's only 12, she can only do so much. "What about you?"

"Madge is already here in the woods so I guess I'll stay. Maybe she has camp set up somewhere." We weave through the foliage until we reach the tree I was snared up in. I know it's the right one because once I start digging I find the wire that held me, singed by the fire that raged on yesterday. Just looking at it makes my shoulder start to hurt; the burn isn't even near halfway recovered. I avoid it being in pain by putting most of the weight from the backpack on my other shoulder, that way I don't risk injuring myself further. "Well, here we are."

"I don't see no blonde," Thresh leans against the tree with a smirk.

"She'll be here," I say back, a tinge of annoyance to my voice. She's not stupid, Madge would know this is where we'd meet up after that announcement was made. Unless she doesn't want to work as a team… unless she wants to stick it by herself. I force the thought out of my head and pull out a water bottle, sipping slowly to preserve the drink. "Do you want me to help you find Rue?"

"If your girls up for it I'd appreciate the help," he says. Of course Madge will be up for it, she was fond of the little girl all through training. "Maybe not, I don't know. We'll see, I guess. Maybe I'll just go. Maybe I'll go now, actually."

I raise an eyebrow, "If you're sure."

"Not much use sitting around waiting, is there?" He slings the backpack over his shoulders and I smirk. "See you around, Hawthorne."

"Hopefully not," I shoot back, causing him to smirk. I lounge back against the tree and listen to his footsteps crunch through the woods. Loud, very obvious, but I say nothing. Just like that our alliance is over.

"What the hell," I hear him grumble, causing my hair to stand on end. "Would you… damnit!" Before I know what I'm doing I rush towards where his voice is coming from. It takes all I have not to laugh at the image before me; I've never been more disappointed to miss a scuffle in my life. Madge, Madge _Undersee_, has Thresh pinned against the ground with a knife to his throat. "Hawthorne, get your girl off of me!"

"Madge," I laugh, my voice causes her to turn towards me. A smile lights up on her face as she pushes off of Thresh.

"Jesus Christ," Thresh rubs at his neck as Madge straightens her clothes and brushes dirt out of her hair. "I go off on my own for less than a minute and she jumps me!" I know he's uncomfortable because she managed to pin him. I'm not even sure _I _could pin Thresh, she must've just caught him by surprise.

"I didn't know it was _you_," she crosses her arms at Thresh and then walks the distance to me. "I knew you'd be here," she says quietly to me, her crystal blue eyes widening as she watches me.

"Good," I retort, "I knew you'd be here too." I study her for a minute, the way her eyes flicker back and forth as she takes me in, the small smile that plays at her lips. "Glad you made it out of the fire," I mutter, still angry that she switched course halfway through the escape and ran off without saying anything. I suppose it had been easier that way considering there was still only one winner, but a goodbye would have been nice.

"I told you I had to go," she rolls her eyes, but then her face deadpans. "We've got to go." I raise an eyebrow and Thresh heaves himself off the ground. "All of us." I jerk my head around as if I heard something, maybe she has people looking for her, maybe she knows the careers are on their way. Thresh crosses his arm. "Would you just come?" she nearly snaps. "I don't have all day."

Thresh raises his hands and follows quickly on her tail. "I thought she was supposed to be _sweet_," he mutters under his breath. I can't help but laugh this time. We start making our way through bushes and over tree roots as fast as we can. Madge keeps throwing glances over her shoulder to make sure we're both following her and the deeper we get into the woods the more I'm positive that someone is trying to track her down. That's the only reason for getting us both out of the area so quickly. Madge has no connection to Thresh, she must have known that we had an alliance when she saw us together and then decided to keep him out of harm's way for the time being.

"We're almost there," Madge says as she jumps over a stump.

"Almost where?" Thresh asks.

Madge replies, "Camp." Thresh glances at me and I lift my shoulders into a shrug, I have no idea what she means. "I took us down a different path than I usually go so there would be different tracks if the careers went out hunting or something," she tells us. "Can't have them finding us now can we?" I pick up my pace to I match Madge's but just as I do she slows it. "We're here," she cheers. Her lips form a perfect _o_ and then she whistles, a different four tuned harmony than the one from yesterday escapes her. "Now we wait."

"Wait for what?" Thresh pants, obviously tired out from the journey here. The heat isn't doing us much good either.

"That," Madge points up toward a tree where a strange movement is coming from. A few moments later a little girl's head pops out and she offers us a bright smile. "Come on down here, would you?" I'm confused by what's happening, the dark skinned girl that slides down the tree and giggles, rushing forward and wrapping her arms around her District partner. Her hair is poofy and she smiles so greatly it looks as though her face might burst. I'm not the only one that made an alliance with the tributes from District 11. Madge has been protecting Rue.

* * *

I sit down at this so called "camp" Madge and Rue have created while the blonde takes a seat next to me. Her eyebrows rise up her forehead as she smiles, folding her hands in her lap. "So? How is it?" I glance around and try to figure out how they managed to find this place. The tree Rue climbed down is a bit out of the way, maybe 10 yards or so. Madge told me she hides up there when Madge goes hunting. Hunting _what_ I'm not sure, but hunting all the same. Madge gives the whistle when she returns so she knows it's safe for Rue to come down.

There's a natural barrier of rocks and trees that give us a view of the land below and to the sides of us while keeping us concealed. It reminds me a bit of where Katniss and I sat the day of the reaping, looking out across the field while we ate bread and goat cheese but knowing we were protected. Rue and Madge have their sleeping bags in some sort of caved area. It has a roof so if it were to rain they would be protected, despite a few places that might leak. It's like an actual camp. They have a campfire and everything, two giant rocks that they sit on while they eat. It's nothing compared to what Thresh and I had as camp.

"It's… nice."

"Not what you expected?" she laughs, and I shake my head into a no. "Rue found it. Well, sort of. She was climbing around in different trees while I was setting snares the other day and she stumbled upon it." She waits as if I'm going to say something else, but I'm a bit at a loss for words. My eyes carry over to Rue and Thresh on the other side of "camp" talking quietly to each other. "I didn't know you two had an alliance."

"I didn't know _you_ two had an alliance."

"Learn something new every day, I suppose," she says lightly. Her eyes eventually drop form the District 11 tributes because they start making their way over to us. "So, what are we doing?"

"Rue thinks we should stick together," Thresh says. "Until the final six."

"I think it's a logical plan," Madge agrees, smiling brightly at the little girl. "For now, anyway. What about you? What do you think?"

"I'll do whatever Rue wants," Thresh says. "Hawthorne?"

"Sure," I nod. "Sounds fine." I force some sort of smile on my face considering it isn't fine, I don't want this. Another alliance, an alliance with a 12 year old girl and a boy who's afraid of the woods. Not exactly something I had in mind. Madge leans over and rests her hand on my knee, squeezing lightly and offering a _genuine_ smile. She must know I'm irritated. "Final six."

"I guess… I'll unpack?" Thresh suggests. Rue nods her head and leads him away to where they've been storing their things. Thresh hasn't stop smiling since he spotted the small girl, I know he must feel like he's her older brother. Thresh doesn't have and siblings, he already told me so, so I can understand why he looks at Rue like she's his sister.

"It's not forever," Madge says quietly. "The alliance."

"I thought you said there could only be one winner," I bite out, effectively changing the subject. If she hadn't been teamed up with Rue then none of this would have happened. We could be off together living in some tree and waiting for me to shoot down all of our opponents. "Which is why you wouldn't come with me."

She frowns. "I was hoping if it got down to it… if she were to win if I couldn't. I mean I don't know, maybe… I don't know." She removes her hand from my knee and folds it in her lap again. "I just didn't want her to die. I found her on the first day curled up in a tree. She didn't have anything to drink…"

"I get it," I say, and she smiles again. She's got a good heart, I probably would have just left Rue there. "Does she talk much?"

"I think she's intimidated by you," Madge says. I lift my eyes and find Rue staring at me, only to look away once we make eye contact.

"I'm not gonna hurt her," I grumble.

"It's not that, it's just… you're really tall, and she's short." Madge smirks and adds, "You're also kind of angry looking."

"No I'm not," I snap. She raises her eyebrows playfully and nudges me with her elbow. "Funny," I drone, rolling my eyes and reaching around to pull the backpack off of me. It takes a bit of effort considering I don't want to hit my shoulder so Madge helps. "Careful," I say. "Still hurts."

"Didn't you treat it?" she frowns, her hand resting over the burn. I wince when she makes contact but she doesn't seem to notice. "Here," she frowns, unzipping my jacket and pulling it off for me. "Rue," she calls across the small area to her friend. The small girl perks up when she hears her name. "Can you bring me the gift we got last night?"

"Sure," she replies. Her voice is quiet and gentle, soft like the rain when it isn't storming. A few moments later she returns with some sort of container. "Did he get burned too?"

"Yes," Madge says back, taking the round container into her hands and unscrewing the lid. "Thanks."

"No problem," Rue grins, her eyes darting to me and back to Madge. Once she scurries back to Thresh, Madge reaches for the hem of my shirt.

"What are you doing?" I protest immediately.

"Taking your shirt off," Madge scowls. I lift an eyebrow but she reaches again for the hem, tugging upwards until it slips over my head. She pauses a moment, blinks twice and coughs, and then forces out, "Right." Her hand dives into the cream and she leans for my shoulder.

"What are you doing?" I repeat with an edge of panic in my voice. I brace myself for an immense amount of pain but the second the cream touches my skin it's like a cool breeze has blown over me, a wave from the ocean has encased me. A sigh escapes my lips before I can stop it and Madge lets out a soft chuckle. "Sweet God," I drop my head backwards. "That feels nice." Her fingers dance around the wound, reaching all parts and spreading it evenly. I lift my head as her hand drops to my chest, startled at the sudden contact.

"Sorry," her cheeks turn pink. "You have other burns though, I just figured…"

"It's alright," I reply, my lips tugging upward. She brushes a strand of hair back behind her ear and chews on her lip. "So where'd you get this?"

"The cream?" I nod. "Haymitch sent it." I narrow my eyes and look up towards the sky as her smile broadens. "I'm guessing he didn't send you much?"

"More like anything," I mutter. "What else did he send?"

Her shoulders lift in a shrug as she continues to spread the cream across my chest, although I'm sure she's covered all of the burns by now. "Some wire, a bit of food. Not much. A water bottle on the first day."

"Filled with water?"

"Yeah," Madge admits sheepishly. She lifts her gaze until it meets mine. "I must be the favorite."

"Well good thing I'm with the favorite now," I reply lightly. Again her cheeks turn the most beauteous shade of pink and she finally pulls her hand away. "I'm glad you're okay, Madge."

She pauses a moment and holds my gaze before adding, "You too." And then her arms snake around my neck and mine around her waist. "I'm _really_ glad you're okay." She drops her head to my shoulder, the one that isn't coated in burn healing cream, and lets out a sigh as I pull tighter. "You have no idea."

* * *

_A/N: Oh come on, I had to! We'll learn more about what Madge has been up to in the next chapter, as well as some Rue/Gale bonding time and Madge/Thresh bonding bits. It only makes it so much harder in the end... sigh. Did you like the chapter?_


	16. Chapter 16

We take sleeping shifts the first night. It was decided that one from each District will stay up to prevent the alliance from breaking off prematurely. Considering Rue's only 12, Thresh will be taking most of the shifts so she can get her sleep. All I want to do is collapse but I volunteer for watch, Madge probably needs her sleep too. I watch Rue slither into her sleeping bag as Madge makes her way back over to me.

"You get some sleep," she says quietly, her hand cupping my cheek. "I know you're tired." All day Madge has been unbelievably gentle with me when I should be the one being gentle with her. She knows my nerves are shot with this new alliance. Thresh is incredibly loud, constantly attracting attention and scaring birds out of the trees. Rue still looks at me as if I'm a ghost, a monster, someone who shouldn't be reckoned with. Madge tries to keep the peace by pulling me off, talking to me through a hushed voice and reminding me we're stronger this way. She has an unbelievable amount of patience.

"I'm fine," I wave her off despite melting into the warmth of her touch. It's cold tonight and Madge is warm. When it was just me and Thresh all I could do when the wind became brisk was hunch over myself and create friction with my hands. Now I have her although I don't really have her at all. A smile stretches on her face as she drops her hand, watching me blink the sleep from my eyes. Thresh takes this opportunity to lumber over and occupy the stump next to mine. "Really, Madge,"

"Gale," she kneels down and pulls my chin so I face her. Another smile slips onto her face as I yawn, unable to suppress how tired I truly am. "Go to bed. I'll take shift with Thresh and wake you up in a few hours." My eyes dart toward the man in question, the person who she'll be on watch with. "I can handle myself," Madge says as she follows my gaze. Of course Madge can handle herself, she had Thresh pinned to the ground earlier today. Let's not forget there's no way Thresh would be able to get away with killing her if I'm sleeping four feet away. "Besides, Thresh wouldn't lay a hand on me, would you Thresh?" He grunts in response, keeping his eyes downcast and away from the two of us. "It'll be a good bonding experience. Now get some sleep."

Only when her hand drops to mine and pulls me toward the sleeping bags do I give in. Everything she does, every movement she makes is so peaceful. Like a doe in the woods or when the sunlight peaks through the clouds, everything about Madge is done gracefully. She pats the pillow one over from Rue and I slowly climb over, pulling my jacket off of my shoulders. "Thank you," I say weakly as she takes it from my hands. Madge slips her own arms into the jacket, the sleeves are loose because I have longer arms than her, but it'll still keep her warm against the wind tonight.

I raise an eyebrow as she lowers herself to the cave floor, running her fingers over my forehead. "We're running low on food, will you hunt tomorrow?" The gesture is familiar; it makes my head go light.

With a laugh I say, "Sure. Is that why you want me sleeping?"

"No, I want you sleeping because you had a long day and you look like you're about to pass out." Her lips tug up as she averts her gaze. "Good_night_, Rue." I shift in my spot, turning my head to watch the dark skinned girl who's pink in the cheeks.

"I wasn't listening," she giggles, rolling over to face the wall. "Goodnight, Madge. And Gale."

"Night," I force out, trying to repress a chuckle at the girl who reminds me much of my younger siblings. She must be thrilled at the idea that Madge and I are here together. I wonder if she believed the interviews. She must've, I've seen the way her eyes flit back and forth between me and Madge when we're together. When I look back at Madge her cheeks are just as pink as Rue's. She pulls her hands away from me and pushes herself off the ground. I raise my eyebrows in an unasked question concerning Rue. _What have you told her? _I know she understands me because she lifts her shoulders in a shrug before scurrying to sit next to Thresh.

"Goodnight, Gale," she calls over her shoulder. I laugh and pull my fingers through my hair trying to ease my mind. I let my eyes drift shut and my thoughts go hazy. The last thing I hear before slipping into sleep is the muffled chuckle of Thresh, followed by Madge's tinkling laugh. I can't help but wonder what they said.

* * *

I'm woken up my Madge running her hands through my hair. Out of shock I push her away, reaching for the knife I keep under my pillow. Once I blink I realize Madge has it in her hands; Thresh snorts from his spot near the entrance. "Sorry," I rub at my eyes. He must've told her I kept it there before waking me up. Back at camp in the wheat field Thresh would kick my foot to wake me up, nothing as intimate as Madge. "We switching?" She nods before handing me my knife and starting toward slumber. "Do I get my jacket back?" I ask as she slips into the sleeping bag I just emerged from.

She frowns, peeling it from her body. "Would you like mine too?" I snort as I take my jacket into my hands, sighing from the warmth it gives me in the suddenly frigid air, she's kept it nice and toasty for me. Madge knows that her jacket is too small for me, however, and her joke brings me a sense of normalcy. I wish I could just crawl back and sleep for a few more hours, sleep until I'm not tired. I feel like I'm always tired.

I raise an eyebrow as she zips up her sleeping bag. _My_ sleeping bag. "Why aren't you in yours?"

"Because this one's warmer," she shrugs before rolling over. I watch for a moment as she snuggles down, exhaling pleasantly as her eyes flicker shut. She looks overly content. A chuckle escapes Thresh as I make my way to him, dropping his head into his hands and rubbing his eyes. Once I reach the stump Madge had been on I stretch, throwing my head back and listening to my shoulders pop. Stretching is one of my favorite things in the morning; it brings a new light to the world, wakes me up.

"I sure could go for some coffee," Thresh mutters. Coffee. My mom used to drink coffee whenever she had a long night. She rarely drank it considering it only benefitted her, I wasn't a fan of the tangy liquid and she didn't like to be greedy or wasteful. My stomach aches when I think about my mother, how she's probably watching me right now despite how late it must be in District 12. I wonder if we're on the same time schedule, if it's late there, too. The sun won't be up for a few hours, I wonder if Katniss is already awake getting ready to hunt.

Does Katniss watch me? Miss me? I hate thinking about her, about how she must worry for me. I'd do the same if she had been Reaped, sure, but I don't want her doing it for me. Is she keeping my family fed? Does she stay up staring at the ceiling wondering if she's on my thoughts? I don't spend much time thinking about District 12, it makes me feel sick. I never thought I'd be longing to be back in the Seam, never thought I'd miss my creaking floorboards or door that never stayed shut. And that's just the District itself. When I think about Katniss or Thom, let alone my family, my whole being feels distant, lonely.

"Thresh?" Rue's voice is soft; thankfully it pulls me from my thoughts. She taps on his shoulder and it takes him a moment to lift his head, he's getting really tired. It was a lot easier when only one of us had to be on watch. "You can sleep and I'll stay awake."

"Just go back to bed," he motions toward the sleeping bag with a lazy hand; his voice is muddled in lethargy.

Rue crosses her arms, "I can take watch too. I'm old enough." She pushes his shoulders but Thresh keeps his position.

"I know you are, just go back to sleep." I reach for the water bottle as her voice drops so low I can't hear it. "_Rue_…" Thresh sighs, scratching at his neck. "Hawthorne,"

"Hm?" I lift my head to watch the two, the younger is obviously irritated.

"You make sure nothing happens to Rue, alright?" I raise an eyebrow and lower the water bottle from my lips, screwing the lid on slowly as Thresh decides on his words. "She wants to take a shift." His voice is filled with aggravation but his eyes are foggy and ready for bed.

I laugh, "Does she now?" Rue nods her head and crosses her arms; it reminds me a lot of Rory. Stubborn. Wanting to show everyone that she's old enough to do something like this. To fit in with the big kids. "Yeah, I got her." Rue nearly squeals in delight, throwing her arms around Thresh before the latter pushes himself from the stump and collapses into a sleeping bag without another word. I hear Madge grunt and mutter something under her breath but then she's out too. "Well good morning," I say as Rue takes the stump Thresh was on. "Are you thirsty?" She tips her head into a nod and I hand her my water bottle, watching her sip greedily. "That was nice of you, letting him sleep."

"Madge used to stay up the whole night," she shrugs. "I've gotten plenty of sleep." Rue screws the lid back on the water bottle and hands it back quickly, averting her eyes from me almost at once. "Madge told me you have a brother," she says quietly. It's still strange hearing her speak. It's soft, like she's telling a secret. Doesn't want anyone to overhear us. I guess she could be quiet because the people behind us are asleep or because anyone could be on the prowl. I just get the feeling her voice is naturally soft-spoken.

"Two," I reply, keeping my voice quite like hers. "And a sister."

"I have five siblings," she tells me, her eyes having lit up when I mentioned Posy. Five. Five siblings. I remember when I thought having two was too many, then Posy was born. "And I'm the oldest." My heart twists in my chest, she's responsible for five younger children. I remember when I was twelve, when I had Rory and Vick to worry about. Dad was still alive then, it wasn't as difficult with him hunting and teaching me his ways. Rue, though. I know she comes from a poorer part of her District because Thresh said they live in the same neighborhood and that's where he was from.

All I can say back is, "Wow." There's a pause in the conversation as she picks up a stick and starts digging holes in the ground. "Madge told _me_ that you were scared of me." Rue giggles as I lift my eyebrows. "So it's true?"

"No," she doesn't wipe the smile from her face. I notice she has dimples. Posy has dimples. "You just have a lot to live up to. Madge talked about you a lot."

"Did she, now?" She nods as her eyes continue to glow, I can't help but smirk. Madge talking about _me_. I still wonder how out of everyone in the District, out of all the people she could have fallen for, why was it me? She admitted that her interview was real, that she truly had feelings for me. I just don't know why. "And what'd she say?"

"Oh, nothing," Rue shrugs her shoulders but the smile doesn't vanish. "Just a few things." I rack my brain trying to think about the sort of things Madge Undersee could have told Rue about me. "Nothing bad," Rue adds quickly upon seeing my face, the way my eyebrows cross tightly. "At all." Again I laugh, still curious as to what she could've said. I suppose now that two winners can get out of this arena I should assess my feelings for Madge, but I can't. Rue wouldn't understand my thoughts, and if she did I'm not sure she'd care much, considering she asks, "Do you like her too?"

I think back to the interview, think back to how Haymitch said it gave us an unfair advantage if we were star-crossed lovers. "Course I do," I nod. But do I? As a friend, no doubt about that, but anything more? I always thought I'd end up with Katniss, never thought I'd be in this situation. How is a boy from the Seam supposed to feel when the unattainable blonde from town develops feelings for him?

"Even when she's scary?"

"Scary?" Rue glances over her shoulder at Madge who's curled in a ball fast asleep before she tips her head yes. "What do you mean?" Rue chews on her lip and tugs on her hair. It's evident she wants to talk about it but at the same time doesn't know how to. "Has Madge killed someone?" Again her head tips into a yes. After finding the blood on the arrows I'm not as surprised as I should be. I could have assumed Madge was hunting animals, but people have a larger target area than animals and her aim wasn't that good. Deep down I think I knew she had killed someone, I just didn't want to admit it. The thought of her killing someone makes my skin crawl. _I_ haven't even killed anyone yet, at least not directly. "Who?"

Rue's eyebrows furrow and she hesitates. "That one girl, the one who looked like her. From District 1." Glimmer. Thresh and I had been baffled at her death ever since her picture flashed in the sky and it had been Madge all along. Rue's eyes turn dark as she continues, "We were sitting in a tree, Madge told me to be really quiet. She made a whole bunch of noise and the girl went off on her own, away from the group. She jumped on her."

"Is that how she got the scar? Across her cheek?"

"Yeah, it was a scary fight. Her eyes turned all cold and she didn't talk for awhile after that." I nod slowly, trying to process the information. "That's how she got the arrows." This means Madge would have had to use a knife, a rock, something with blunt force to kill Glimmer. It was a personal kill, a hand-to-hand battle where Madge must have gotten covered in blood. I can only imagine how Rue must feel having seen it happen, how Madge must have felt _doing_ it. She drops the stick she had been playing with and begins to fiddle with her hands. "A few days later Madge noticed the girl from 5 had been following us. The one with red hair. She shot her before she even said anything to me." Rue then results to picking at her fingernails. "Do you like her even then?"

"Yeah," I say weakly. "She's still Madge. Don't you think?"

"I don't know," she admits. "Like I said, she gets scary." The rest of the morning is quiet, I pass the time trying to figure out if I'll end up seeing scary Madge. If I want to see her. I nudge Rue whenever she looks like she might fall asleep. I even tell her she can get some more rest if she'd like, but she shakes her head. "I'm not useless," she says. "I want to help."

"You remind me of my brother," I laugh, rubbing at my eyes. "Eager to start the day."

"That so?" Madge's voice causes me to turn. Her hair is spilling over her shoulders; it must've fallen out while she was asleep. She rubs at her eyes and tightens her jacket before pushing herself out of the sleeping bag and making her way over to us. "Morning," her voice is scratchy and she yawns, I force myself to pull my gaze away from her. There's something about a girl with a sleepy voice that gets my heart racing. I can almost imagine her in fluffy white pajamas. "Want a few more hours of shuteye?" Her eyes are on me. "I woke up and can't fall back asleep." She sits on the same stump as Rue considering they're both small enough to fit.

"No I think I'm alright."

Madge nudges Rue's side, "What're you doing up? Hm?" Rue laughs and squirms, Madge obviously hit a ticklish spot. "Trying to steal my man?" Again Rue laughs as Madge tries to fight the pink from her cheeks. Unsuccessfully, of course. She hadn't been as open about liking me _before_ this started, maybe she's just caught up in the fact that there can be two winners now. Her eyes lift to mine and she chews on her lip, I can't help but smile with her. "Water?" I toss her my water bottle and she catches it, popping off the lid and taking a sip. "I wish I had a toothbrush," she grumbles as she screws the cap back on.

"Yeah, me too," I say. "Wish _you_ had a toothbrush." Her cheeks spark with red as her jaw drops open; I can't help the laugh that spills out of me. I've spent much too long with Thresh, I haven't made a pretty girl blush in what feels like forever. Madge, though, she's not going anywhere. I can milk this for awhile and still get enjoyment out of it.

"Gale Hawthorne!" Madge tosses the water bottle at me angrily but she can't hide the smile that stretches across her face. "I thought you were going hunting!"

"Aw," I lean back on my hands, "I can't leave you here with Thresh and Rue, they might hurt you." Her eyes bore into me and I let out another laugh, she's just too fun to tease. Madge obviously realizes she's the new target of my jokes and doesn't hesitate to retaliate. She launches across the clearing between us and knocks me off the stump; my rear collides with the ground painfully as she attempts to pin me down. I'm too quick, too strong; I flip her over so she's the one on the ground. I hear Rue giggle from her spot watching. "Nice try," I murmur, although my butt still hurts. She squirms beneath me and throws her arms down angrily.

"Good," she finally grumbles. "I was starting to think you turned into a wimp." I roll my eyes and slide off of her. The moment her hands are free she attempts to pin me again but I dodge out of the way.

"Hey, I thought we were on the same team!" I laugh as she lunges herself onto my back. Her ankles wrap around my chest and I fall onto my knees.

Her breath is hot in my ear as she whispers, "You're unbelievable, you know." As she pulls herself off my back and walks to help me up her hand trails across my cheek. Once she helps me up I watch her smirk, dusting off her shirt. "I'll just get you later," she dismissively says, waving her hand in the air before making her way back to Rue.

Then she winks. It's so miniscule I almost don't catch it, but it was definitely there. That's when I figure out what she's doing, she's playing up the teasing romance. It's got to be for the cameras, I knew there was no way Madge would openly act like this if there wasn't a reason behind it. It doesn't matter that we're a team now, we need more sponsors. And if teasing romance is what she wants, what the audience wants, then that's exactly what they'll get.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the lag in update, I was working on getting my other fic finished. However, I spent much more time working on this chapter. Believable? Do you like it? I'm going to try and get another update in before I go to camp but no promises!_


	17. Chapter 17

As much as I don't want to take Thresh with me hunting it's essential that we go. I'd rather take _Rue_ for crying out loud, that girl's as silent as the wind. But Thresh it is, Madge and Rue stay back at camp to take watch while we're out. God, it feels great to have the bow and arrow. I push thoughts about how it was received out of my head and just cherish the fact that I have it. If I close my eyes tight enough and listen to the wind brushing through the trees I can _really_ pretend I'm home. Sure, the bow feels unfamiliar in my hands, but so did the one Katniss gave me when I first held it.

"Just like old times," Thresh grumbles as we walk through the woods. He constantly throws glances over his shoulder and I can't help but smirk. I suppose I should be more nervous but knowing I have Madge and that we're both going to get out of here, I'm not. I try not to think about the fact that having Madge and I win means having Rue and Thresh lose. We're too… friendly. I tried to avoid the word friend for as long as I can, but this is more than alliance. It's the only thing that makes me anxious, that they'll have to die one day. "You know, you could've just gone by yourself. Pretty sure your girl would kill me if I ever tried anything. Not that I would." I try not to react when he says _my_ girl, but that's what she is I guess. Here, anyway. "Plus her and Rue are friends and that'd be a little…"

"Would you shut up," I finally hiss, turning to him as I narrow my eyes. "You're scaring every animal in the vicinity away." Thresh frowns before rolling his eyes. His steps lumber after mine, but that's the only similarity. He breaks every branch, crunches every leaf. I pause again and then turn to him and don't even attempt to hide the annoyance in my voice. "This isn't working."

"Sorry I don't meet your _needs_, Hawthorne."

"You're just too loud," I tell him, racking my head for an excuse to keep him quiet. Just as I'm about to suggest he collect berries or something a cannon goes off, both of us snap our heads and widen our eyes. And then, without another word, we run. We don't ask questions, we don't take a moment to collect our thoughts. It's just us and the forest floor, our steps pounding as fast as humanly possible. I wait for another cannon. If someone got to our camp and killed one of the girls then the other might die too. That, or if Rue was dead Madge would snap and kill whoever did it. I know she would. Unless Madge was the one who was taken out…

My heart pounds in my chest, Madge can't be dead. I jump over roots, Madge can't be dead. We just found them, I just _found_ her, I can't lose her already. I can't. She can't be dead. Through bushes, between trees, Thresh stays hot on my trail the entire time. They can't be dead, they can't be dead. New scrapes and bruises are sure to appear on my body after this but I don't care. My lungs feel like they might give out but I'm not taking a moment to pause and catch my breath. My legs are going to break, I'm going to pass out, but I will myself on. I can't lose her, I refuse to lose her.

Despite thinking camp might be a trap we push our way into the area. I draw an arrow and spin in circles to see if anyone's around here. Someone could have a knife at Madge's throat and I'd have to think fast. Someone might be waiting to pounce. "You think the hovercraft came already?" Thresh pants, but I don't answer. I wait for a sign of movement, I look for footprints. Where are they? Why aren't they here? Maybe Madge got killed and Rue fled. Maybe Rue's being chased right now. "Rue!" Thresh screams and runs toward the cave. "Rue!"

"Thresh!" I hear Rue shout back. It takes everything I have not to scream Madge's name, but if this _is_ a trap then I have to keep my calm. "Where are you?"

"Camp!" Lack of Madge's voice causes my insides to crumble; I glare at Thresh and his overbearing voice. I charge over and tackle him to the ground, holding up my finger to keep him quiet. "Hawthorne, what the hell are you…"

"Shhh," I hiss, cocking my head as leaves rustle. It could be Rue, but what if she is being followed? The small girl pokes her head through and rushes forward as tears lightly drip down her face; I pull myself off of Thresh so she can hug him. I keep my eyes open for Madge, waiting for her to push through the leaves. After a few seconds of no one following the small girl I force myself to swallow, it takes a moment to get it down my knotted throat. She's gone. I throw my hands over my face and rub at my eyes, trying to get the thought down. I can't, I refuse to accept it.

"I thought it was you," she cries into his chest. To that I turn my head, if she thought it was Thresh, then… the leaves finally rustle again and I twist my body, pulling my bow and arrow up again. Madge makes her way through the leaves and the weapons slip from my hand, colliding with the ground as I stumble forward. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair is flying all over the place. She doesn't pause in her jagged steps, running forward and throwing her arms around my neck without the slightest bit of hesitation

"Where the hell were you?" I mumble, pulling her as close as I can. "Sweet God, Madge," my voice wavers as I breathe her in. Easy, so terribly easy it could've been for her to be taken from me. "I thought…"

"Yeah, well _I_ thought too," she sniffles. Of course she was worried about me, she had to have been. It's natural instinct. I set her down and lower my forehead to hers, studying the intense concern in her deep blue eyes. "We didn't think there was much harm in going berry picking," she tells me as I cup her cheek; I need to feel more of her, to confirm that she's really here. "We were only a few feet away but the cannon scared us and we just ran the opposite direction, we didn't figure out we were going the wrong way until…" Her rambling causes my heart to twist; I do the only thing I can think of to get her to shut up. Kiss her. My lips crash against hers and her words come to a halt. I feel her body tense at first but then her grip on me tightens, her lips slowly respond.

She tastes like heaven. Happiness. Serenity. One of her hands curls on my chest and the other slips up my neck, pulling me down more to deepen the kiss. It isn't a questioning kiss; it's one of comfort and need. A kiss of passion. Only when I hear Rue giggle and Thresh shush her do I pull away. Madge blinks a few times, her cheeks are infinitely pink. "You stay by my side, alright? All times. I'm not losing you." Her mouth curves into the sweetest smile I've ever seen and she nods once, the tiniest laugh escaping her. I press one more quick kiss to her lips and hear her sigh while her hand drops from my chest. "You scared the hell out of me." I turn my head over to face the District 11 Tributes; I swear I see Thresh smile.

"I don't want you hunting," Madge murmurs quietly to me. "We'll just have to find food some other way because I don't want you…" Madge's eyes widen and her hands trail up my arm. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine," I shake it off but she's already set on healing me.

"Rue, get the medicine." The small girl nods and races toward where our supplies are stored. "Gale," Madge wipes at my cuts with the hem of her shirt, "what happened?"

"Madge I'm fine," I say again. "It's just a few scrapes," she holds up her hand to show me the blood and frowns. "I'm _fine_," I say quietly as Rue returns with the healing cream. Madge takes the jar in her hands and forces me to sit on a rock, lowering herself next to me.

"I need you in one piece," she says, frantically applying the cream to some of the cuts on my arm. They sting for a moment before the pain I hadn't known to be there seeps from the wounds. I sigh with relief and she smiles, "Better?"

"Mmm," Madge's hand slips across my chin and I study her eyes. Full of panic yet still bearing an overwhelming calm. Beautifully blue. I launch my lips against hers again, desperate for the reassurance she provides me. She smiles into the kiss and slides her tongue across my bottom lip. It takes everything I have not to groan; instead I lower myself over her while forcing back sounds of pleasure. She's here, she's okay, she's alive. I take a moment to breath, to process the fact that I'm kissing Madge Undersee. I feel her below me, her unsteady breath and shaking hands that try to find a place to settle.

Madge's beautiful, there's no denying it. She's calm and _real_ and right here in front of me. She smiles and laughs and cares if I'm dead or alive. Madge Undersee is like an angel, gentle and kind and somehow still sweet in times like this. There's a certain passion to her kisses, a feeling I haven't experienced before when kissing other girls, a feeling that I don't quite understand. A clatter of metal eventually gets us away from each other, we pull apart and watch one another, taking a moment to breathe. After looking up we realize Rue's been applying healing cream to Thresh's cuts as well. Kind of reassuring, considering Madge and I went a little…

Rue's the first to move, racing over to the silver parachute that just landed and prying open the lid after glancing toward us quickly. "What is it?" Madge raises herself up from the rock and slowly makes her way to Rue.

The small girl lifts it up and spins back to us with a grin on her face. "Look! Gale doesn't need to hunt," she races forward and shoves the silver container into our hands. It's filled to the brim with assorted meats that will be able to feed us for a few days. My eyes widen as I glance up toward Madge. "We have sponsors!"

* * *

The night is filled with laughter as we wolf down the meats hungrily. I'll have to hunt again eventually but for right now we're soaking up the fact that we have sponsors, that we're alive, and that we have meat. Real, juicy meat. Madge keeps her body close to mine, every once in awhile she'll nuzzle into my side. It makes my stomach turn; her body heat radiates and keeps me warm. Eventually my hand finds hers and her fingers twine with mine. Rue keeps giggling as she chews her food and Thresh scolds her.

"It's not polite to stare," he tells her gently, although he can't keep his eyes from us either. Every move with Madge is natural, I don't have to think twice about if I should do it or not. I've been with plenty of girls. Holding hands, kissing, but not like this. Not like with her. She has a way of getting my heart to pick up pace, nothing feels forced or unpleasant. Thresh changes the subject quickly, "Let's play a game."

"We're _playing_ a game," I mutter. Madge snorts, yet squeezes my hand reassuringly. "What game?" He explains this thing he used to do with his friends back in District 11, they'd hold up both of their hands and put down a finger if they had done something. The whole point is to make other people put fingers down so you're the last one standing. It feels like a child's version of the Hunger Games to me. "Sounds stupid," I grumble.

"Sounds better than sitting here and talking about nothing," Madge teases, readjusting herself until all ten of her fingers are up. "Who's going first?" I frown, also readjusting myself to hold up ten fingers. "That's the spirit," she grins. After a moment Madge says, "I'll go. Put down a finger if…" she frowns, trying to think of something. "Put down a finger if you have ever skipped school." Everyone drops a finger but Madge who, instead, chews on her lip.

"You've never skipped school?" Rue raises an eyebrow. "Even _I've_ skipped school." The mocking manner of the child's voice causes Madge to scowl.

Quietly Madge says, "I like school." All three of us snicker at Madge who rolls her eyes, trying to fight the pink from her cheeks. "Don't tease me for liking education!"

I lower my voice and move closer to her ear, "You've never skipped one single day of school?" She jerks her head into a nod and I fight the laugh from my throat, instead I press a kiss to her temple. If we're keeping up this couple thing a few extra kisses isn't going to hurt anyone. Especially me. "You're adorable."

"Oh, shut up," she murmurs, shoving me away with a smile. "Your turn."

I pull away and scrunch my nose, listening to a hearty laugh escape Thresh who watched the interaction. Racking my brain, I try to think of something that I haven't done that these other three might have. I've done quite a lot, it's pretty difficult to figure something out. "Put down a finger if you've ever owned a pet." All three end up putting a finger down, thankfully. Madge apparently had a cat when she was younger, Thresh and Rue both had dogs.

The game continues, I end up putting down a finger nearly every round. Rue and Thresh made this sort of plan to target me and get me out, it works pretty successfully once Madge joins their scheme. When Rue finally gets me out with 'put down your finger if you've ever drank alcohol', the entire cave bursts into hysterics. I don't even know why it's funny but it is, all the air escapes my lungs as the little girl parades around for being the one to get me out. She sings a strange song and sticks her tongue out at me. It feels good to laugh again, to forget that these people are truly enemies but instead accept them as some sort of friends.

My laugher only ceases when Madge lifts herself from the cave floor and quickly rushes outside. Thresh raises an eyebrow as the smile slowly slips from his face, but I shake my head. "I got it," I say, following her as fast as I can. Madge waits outside the cave, off to the side. Her eyebrows are furrowed as she paces. "Madge?"

"I can't do this, Gale," she balls her hands into fists and drops her voice so the two inside don't hear her. "Act like we're friends with them. I can't."

"Why not?" I grab her wrist and pull her to me, "Hm? You were the one that wanted to play that game in the first place, not me." She frowns but comes closer as I will her to.

"Because we're _not_," she stresses, pulling on the tips of her hair. She doesn't answer why she wanted to play, but I can figure that out myself. The sense of normalcy, the laughter. She wanted it too, how could she not? The need to laugh, it was more important than her other concerns at the time. "We're not friends with them. What happens when it comes down to it and we've got to kill them? Are you going to do it or am I?"

I shake my head, shocked at the bluntness of her words. "That's not going to happen." Why would it come down to that? Sure, I don't want to act like friends because they're going to end up dead sooner or later, but we won't be the ones to kill them. It won't come down to that.

"But what if it does?" I grab her waist and bring her body against mine, anything to get her to stop talking like this. She sighs but caves into my touch; I don't reject her heat on the cold night. "Don't think you can just act like this and get away with it," she says quietly, I can almost sense a tinge of annoyance. This is what she wanted, the romance aspect. That's what I'm giving her. "I don't want to have to kill them."

"So you want to leave then?" She hesitates but tips her head into a nod. "Okay," I kiss her gently and her hands rest against my chest. "When? Right now?" She presses herself on her toes to kiss me again and I lean in, craving the feel of her lips against mine. I've kissed plenty of girls but none like her, the way I can feel her heartbeat and her hands shaking but she doesn't stop, she responds just as passionately.

"You know," she whispers suddenly, "I never thought you'd do that. Kiss me." I involuntarily smile at her words as her lips meet mine again.

"I've always wanted to," I say back. The words tumble from me before I can stop them, not even taking time to think if they're true or not. Of course I had daydreams about Madge Undersee, who hadn't? She's beautiful, smart, I'm only human. "I mean, no," I shake my head as her smile widens, her hands pull me down. "I didn't mean…" Again her lips are on mine and I don't have the chance to think if I truly had always wanted to kiss her. To see what it felt like. Too many conflicting emotions bounce through my head so I focus on the curve of her body, the warmth of her tongue. A cannon echoes in the distance and we snap away from each other. "That makes eight," I say softly, silently thanking it for the reminder of where we are. That this isn't a time to just kiss, it's a time to fight. "We can just wait."

She shrugs but keeps her body close to mine, "I don't know."

"Madge," I murmur against her lips and she sighs again, her hand rubbing along my chin before pulling me in again. "That cannon could be us. We're stronger together for now." Her hands link around my neck and she frowns. "I'll do it. If it comes down to it."

"No you won't," she shakes her head and forces my forehead to hers. "You'll hesitate."

"And you won't?"

"No. I won't." I chew the inside of my cheek and she frowns, almost pulling away from me. "I know what Rue told you. About me and Glimmer. I heard her." I must scowl because she pulls away with a sigh, dragging her hand through her hair to calm herself. "I did it for you. So you could have the bow and arrow."

"Madge," I shake my head as she squints, trying to figure out her words. I don't think any less of her; I don't think she's crazy. "It doesn't matter what you did,"

Her voice drops again, "Have you done it yet?" I furrow my eyebrows as her hands drop from her hair. "Killed anyone," she adds. "Have you?" I tip my head into a no. "See? You won't be able to. You can't do it Gale."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not strong enough," I grunt. She knows what I've been through, how I've had to feed my family, slip over the fence and risk my life on a daily basis. "I can, and I will." It's inevitable. Killing someone. It's bound to happen.

"I guess we'll see," she says sadly, dropping her hand so it links with mine. She pulls me down once more and teases my lips. "I've wanted to kiss you for ages," she tells me, changing the subject immediately. I'm so caught up in the feel of her skin, the taste of her lips, that I don't even notice she's doing it. "So I'm doing it every chance I get." Do I like kissing Madge? Yes, hell yeah I do. But something about it makes me uneasy. The fact that it's for the cameras? Or is it? She admitted she truly had feelings for me, what if she's just acting on them? What if she thinks I'm kissing her because I have feelings for her too? Even with her here now I can't assess how I feel because I could still lose her. What if I decide that I do and then she ends up dying? I can't do that, I won't let that happen.

So for now I'm kissing her because I like how it makes me feel. I'm kissing her because I'm sure the sponsors are eating it up. But why is she kissing _me_?

* * *

_A/N: Hello! I'm back from camp (for now) and wanted to post this chapter. Sorry if it's a bit out of sorts, I'm trying to get back into my writing vibe. I like the chapter, anyway. That's what's important to me. So, enjoy! Hope you liked it._


	18. Chapter 18

Madge crawls back into the cave as we all get ready for bed, stationing herself next to Rue and holding her arms open. The small girl slides into the warmth Madge provides as they slip into their sleeping bags. If I hadn't just spoken with her, I'd think Madge would really want to stay. I guess that's the plan, trying to make it seem like we want to be here, that we're friends.

I should listen to her advice, set up a boundary that I won't cross. What if I do end up having to kill them? Is Madge right? Would I be too weak? I've gotten too attached; I can't let it get any worse.

I make my way over to where Madge is curled in a ball and lean down, pressing my lips to her forehead gently before going to take the night shift. Her eyes flutter open at my touch and a sly smile spreads across her face, she turns and cups my cheek before pulling me in for a real kiss. Rue scoots away with her cheeks bright pink as Madge sits up to kiss me. I can't deny that kissing Madge isn't fun, it makes me tingle, but the rule of attachment stretches to her as well. If I become dependent on her and she ends up like Glimmer… it'll just make it worse.

"Just go to _bed_," Thresh grumbles from the cave entrance. Madge laughs, pulling me in closer and ignoring the words of our allies. God, I can't wait for it to just be Madge and me, no one to tell us to _stop_. I'll be able to get used to that _very_ quickly.

"Yeah, you'll get cooties," Rue teases, scooting farther away from Madge as the blonde attempts to lose herself in me. Her hand slips across my jaw and she nips against me, a muffled moan escapes me no matter how hard I fight it and Madge's lips curve into a smile.

"Cooties galore," Thresh continues monotonously, casting his gaze away from us and taking his seat near the cave entrance.

Rue giggles as Madge finally lets me go. "Goodnight," I whisper, brushing a strand of hair from her face. I'm unsure if I do it for the crowd or if I do it because I want to. I'm sure the sponsors love it but then again so do I, the fact that I can touch her like this without having to really question it. "Sleep well."

Her smile widens, "For the first time in a long time, I think I will." I give her one last kiss, savoring the feeling that will get me through the night ahead of me. I tip my head once at Rue who giggles again before resuming her spot in Madge's arms. Rue and Madge whisper back and forth for a bit once I'm settled at the entrance of the cave, their laughter makes me overly conflicted. It's a mix between happiness that Madge is happy, and pain in the fact that it's all for show. Or it is? As the days go on I continue to get more and more confused as to how this is playing out.

Of course Madge truly cares about Rue, but if it pains her to know that we'll have to cut off the alliance then why does she allow their bond to grow?

Thresh shakes me out of my trance as he asks, "So is it everything you dreamt it to be?" The way his voice lifts playfully causes me to lock my jaw. I knew he wouldn't let it slide, the fact that Madge and I have been together. "Oh, come on Hawthorne!" I can tell by his tone that he's wanted to tease me about this all day. "Everyone knows you've wanted it, and now here it is."

"Shove _off_," I drop my head into my hands, raking my fingers across my face. Of course it's nice, why wouldn't it be? But I'm not about to explain that to Thresh, explain how she gives me a sensation I won't ever be able to put into words. Maybe a less detailed version, I can attempt that.

"You look overly content."

"Because I am," I respond, allowing myself a smirk. If I want to keep up the charade of _couple_ then I guess it extends to Thresh as well. "I never thought it'd happen." And that's the truth. I never thought _anyone_ from town would be able to have actual feelings for me, let alone the mayor's daughter. I still can't see myself as someone special, as someone worth it.

Thresh allows himself to smile, but it's so minuscule I almost don't catch it in the moonlight. "Well I'm happy for you, man." The tiredness to his voice, the genuine care, it's all here. It makes my stomach ache, because he really _is_ happy for me. "Sitting pretty at the end of the world." I snort, dropping my head into my hands again. "You know for awhile I thought it was all some sort of act. You and her."

"Hate to disappoint."

Thresh chuckles, "The way you panicked when you heard the cannon today, though. I knew. You care about her just as much as I care about Rue." Care, it's such a vague word. It almost makes me angry. Of course I care about Madge, and of course he cares about Rue. They're our District partner, we're supposed to. But what kind of care does he mean? I know he cares about Rue as if she was his sister, and I know I care about Madge as if she were my… my what? Friend? Girlfriend? Definitely not sister. That's the thing with the word care. There're too many different types.

After the anthem plays and shows us the dead, the boy from District 1 named Marvel and the girl from District 3, the night continues on without words. All that's left is us and the careers. Four vs. four. Do they know we have an alliance too?

Thresh picks at the ground with a stick and I stare endlessly into the sky, trying to figure out of these are real stars or holographic ones. It's much better than focusing on the task of splitting up. There's no way the careers will off each other until we're gone first.

I look for constellations and study the moon to keep my brain busy; hours pass and I still haven't decided if the sky is real or fake. The only thing I can really pay attention to is the fact that Thresh keep yawning, rubbing his eyes slowly and blinking to keep himself awake.

Just as I'm about to scold him for letting sleep drag him under we hear a rustling of leaves. Thresh snaps his head and I reach for my bow slowly. The second my fingers wrap around the shaft of the bow all hell breaks loose. I dive to the ground as a spear cuts through the air toward us and watch as Thresh does the same. "Madge!" She has to wake up. Now. "Madge!" I leap to my feet and nock an arrow, spinning and pointing toward where the weapon came from. Everything stills as I take my stance.

Her voice is muddled in sleep, "What happened?" Her hands skirt across the ground until she brings up a knife, her fingers slipping around the handle tightly as she rouses Rue.

"We have to _go_," Thresh says quickly, throwing a glance over his shoulder before racing into the cave and grabbing Rue. Madge pushes herself up and throws a bag over her shoulder, blinking the sleep from her eyes and studying the spear that missed us. I stand at attention, pointing an arrow toward where it came from but spinning a bit in case the perpetrator is to move. Damn, I would kill for some of those night vision goggles.

"Madge," I say again, demanding an answer from her. Her hand slips up my back and I sigh in relief, though I won't look at her. I need to keep my eyes peeled; I need to be ready for another attack. Careers aren't exactly the best at making plans or being secretive, seeing Thresh and I together must have thrown them off.

"What do we do?" Rue asks, I can hear the terror in her voice. The sun has started to rise but not enough to allow me to see through the bushes. It casts more shadows than necessary, causing my eyes to dart back and forth frantically as I look for a target. Why would they throw a spear and then leave? I'm confused. Someone's here, they have to be, I'm terrified that there's more than one of them.

The second I see another spear making its way through the bushes I release an arrow, muttering one word under my breath. "Run."

I feel Madge take off from behind me while someone in the shrubbery grunts. Must've hit them, just not in the right spot. Thresh pushes Rue forward and they stumble to get out of camp. I sling a backpack stuffed with God only _knows_ what over my shoulder and reach for another arrow. The second I nock it my feet carry after Madge's who waited until Rue and Thresh were gone before she started to run. I can feel my heart pounding in my ears; my fingers ache and I feel my accuracy slipping.

Thresh's voice manages to penetrate my thoughts, "They're circling us!" They're. _They're_. There's more than one. And they're the careers. "Rue, run!"

Madge's voice is desperate, "Gale!" Something zips past my shoulder as I hop over roots and stones. I have to keep my eyes on the ground but I need to fire behind me. "Damnit," her voice is weak and the footsteps I had been following slow down. "Hit me with something," she mutters, continuing to move yet at a slower rate. Madge spins to face me and I snap to glance behind us, firing an arrow at the first moving thing my eyes target.

Someone curses under their breath and I can only assume that I hit them. My hands aren't used to this type of bow; my fingers keep slipping across the curves. I nock another arrow and yet lower my guard, grabbing Madge's arm and guiding her to take steps again.

The slower we move the more aware of how out of breath I've become. I have no idea how long we've been running, how far. I do notice one thing, however. We're not being followed. "Where are they?" Madge and I pause, scanning the area around us. The sun is seeping into the sky, light blues and early oranges spread across the horizon.

The only response I get is that of a young girl screaming. The only person able to make that sound in this arena is Rue.

As if we aren't out of breath, as if our muscles aren't sore and weak and our mouths aren't dehydrated, we run in the direction of the voice. "_Please_," Rue begs. I squeeze my eyes shut and force the images of Posy out of my brain. "Thresh! Madge!"

"We're coming!" Madge screams back. I don't even care that she's giving everyone a map as to where we are, Rue's in trouble and we have to save her.

Rue's voice is desperate, "_Gale!_" Though I thought it impossible, my speed increases. I pass Madge and raise my bow, listening to one last scream of the girl from District 11, the girl who never got to live her life. The second I enter the clearing and see the figure over Rue I release an arrow. My hands are shaky and my breath is unsteady, I miss my target terribly, nicking them in their calf. Thresh makes his way onto the scene a few seconds later, Madge is last to arrive. The person who had been hunched over Rue takes off into the woods and Madge doesn't hesitate to follow.

I go to stop Madge, my feet take me in that direction, but I can't leave Thresh and Rue like this. "No," Thresh pants, rushing across and dropping down next to her. "No, no, _Rue…_" I spin in circles with another arrow nocked, waiting for another career to attack us. I have to keep them protected, I can't let anyone hurt her again. "No, no, no…"

"It's okay," Rue says weakly. Only when I hear her voice, still soft like the rain but empty like a drought, do I drop my bow. I cross over to the two, Rue has multiple stab wounds to the chest and is losing blood quickly. "Thank you," she says to Thresh, her hand attempting to lift to his cheek yet failing. Her skin is already running pale, as hard as I try to tear my eyes away from the scene I can't.

I saw death during the bloodbath, I've killed plenty of animals in my life, but this… this is something I wish to never have seen. So young, so innocent...

"Stop," Thresh pleads, pulling her into his arms and cradling her like he would an infant. "Rue… don't…" Tears drip down her face and his face. "We can fix you, we can…" Rue's eyes find mine and the smallest smile lights her up. I find myself shaking my head. This can't happen, this isn't happening. She's only 12, she hasn't lived her life. She's barely been through school, never dated or been kissed, she'll never have kids, never marry. She'll never take risks, she'll never see her family again…

The quietest request escapes her, I almost barely hear it. "Sing." Thresh doesn't hesitate to force out a song, something I've never heard before. It must be something from District 11. Once his voice reaches the chorus I stumble backwards unable to watch any more of this scene. I rest against a tree near the edge of the clearing and take deep breaths. _She'll be okay_, I tell myself, but I'm lying. God, I'm lying. A few moments later a cannon fires, Thresh's song continues softly as he rests Rue gently on the ground.

A female scream emits from the woods and suddenly I panic. I let Madge run off by herself. Quickly I pull my bow up again and then I'm charging through the woods. "Madge," I call out, trying to find the perfect balance between loud and quiet so I don't attract attention to myself. I throw many glances over my shoulder and maneuver as fast as I can. Over rocks, through bushes, past roots. Another grunt, a female's sound of desperation, rings out softly. My footsteps pick up as my eyes adjust to the newfound blue that glistens through the sky.

Just as I'm about to call her name again I find Madge hunched over another figure. I'm frozen as I watch her hands rise toward the sky and repeatedly jab down on the person below her. A broken sob and unsteady breath is the only thing I hear. My mind won't put the pieces together despite it all being in front of me. Madge is hysterical, "You killed her! You stupid _bastard_, you _killed _her!"

Her voice jolts me back into reality and I raise my bow, closing in on her and circling the area to make sure no one else is going to happen upon us. My best guess is the person below managed to get away from the career group and the others didn't pursue him. "Madge," I say gently, but her actions continue desperately. She's stopped murmuring to herself but the stabbing goes on. Forceful, desperate. "Madge," I say again. "He's dead." Her head lifts slowly and her chin quivers. She jabs the weapon she had been using, the arrow I lodged into his calf, one last time into his chest. "Are there anymore of them?" Her eyes study me before she painfully squints, as if it hurts to look at me. I lower myself to her, "Careers. Are there anymore?" She blinks once and lowers her gaze back to the boy below her. He's the boy from District 4, I never even learned his name. "He's dead," I say again, avoiding the phrase _you killed him_.

She killed him. Madge killed him.

Madge lifts her hands to me, opening her palms innocently as if she were a child that made a mistake. She's covered in blood. It takes all I have not to gag, instead I tilt her chin up and force her to look into my eyes. Just like Rue said, she's gone dark and cold. The blood on her hands, however, is sticky and warm and still very demanding. "Let's get away from here," I say quietly as she blinks a few more times. "They need to take the body." Without hesitation she stands up, red continues to coat her hands but now it's as if she pays no mind to it. I can't avert my eyes, how it claws under her fingernails and drips down her wrists.

Madge quickly acts as though I'm not here, pushing her way through the woods to get back to the clearing. I follow as fast as I can, watching as she speeds across to where Thresh and Rue are together. Another cannon fires, now I'm not sure if the first one was the boy Madge attacked or if it was Rue. Thresh moves away as Madge settles next to them, she grabs his hand and he doesn't react to the sticky mess. His eyes are foggy and his breath is unsteady but he wears a mask of no emotion. His face has contorted into a painful neutral.

Madge lowers herself to her knees, lightly brushing a strand of hair out of Rue's face.

Rue's eyes are shut, she could be sleeping. Yes, just taking a rest considering she was disrupted in the middle of the night. Madge presses a kiss to her forehead and then whistles a four note tune, the four note tune that she would whistle when it was safe for Rue to come back down out of the trees. My heart clenches and I linger on the edge of the clearing, not wanting to get too close.

I suppose I should say goodbye, say thank you, but how? I can't sing her to sleep, I can't kiss her goodnight. I do the only thing I can think of, lifting three fingers and holding my hand out at arm's length. _Goodbye_, Rue. I'm sorry.

* * *

_A/N: Criticism is always appreciated. _


	19. Chapter 19

I lead Madge down to the river and listen as Thresh's footsteps follow. Just Thresh. Rue was so silent in her footsteps I couldn't hear them anyway, if I pretend like this morning hadn't happened things could almost be the same. But they aren't. I have to keep reminding myself that they aren't. Everything is different now. The color of the sky, the breath that each one of us takes. It seems like even the birds in the trees are silent.

Thresh doesn't speak, I don't ask him to. Madge doesn't speak, I don't ask her to. I don't speak, I don't want to.

I've got nothing to say.

We quietly maneuver through the woods, I'm the only one I trust with a weapon right about now so I keep up my guard as best as I can. Thresh has a knife I think and Madge has hers in her pocket but neither are in a state to defend us if we were suddenly attacked again. I doubt we will be right now, the careers must be accounting for their loss just like we are. They need to think of a new strategy as well now that they've seen us together.

Plus they'll have to find us again. We're on the move. I don't intend to go back to that camp, there's no way in hell I'd put Madge through that sort of thing despite everything we must've left in our panicked packing.

On top of all of this, I'm out half of my arrows. Half. I have six left. I don't even remember firing most of them.

I keep my thoughts focused on strategy, it's a lot easier than thinking of Rue. Rue, who reminds me much of Primrose Everdeen or maybe of my own Rory. The way she was everyone all at once but still herself. It's painful. I couldn't save her. None of us could, what am I supposed to do now? What if I can't save Madge? What if I can't save myself? Things have been too easy, focused on kissing and food instead of survival. I need to think of strategy.

Madge keeps her hands out in front of her, they're still covered in blood but it's dry now. Her eyes are always cast on them, she watches them with such an intense gaze it makes me worry. It's the way she watches them though that makes me sick. Like she's interested. Like she wants to know more. Almost as if she forgets how her hands were stained with blood in the first place.

The sun has quickly risen, and it's a lot easier to study everything around me. I feel more in my element as signs of life other than us make themselves present. Rabbits scurry, squirrels leap from tree to tree, birds sing in the sky. Yet I must remind myself I'm not in my woods, I'm in their woods.

"Where're we going?" Thresh asks quietly. I can hear the emptiness of his voice and it makes my throat go dry. Thresh acts like he's strong. He's big and brave, but he's not strong. He's weak and now he's lost and confused.

"River," I tell him after swallowing once. I imagine he nods but I don't look over my shoulder to check. I have to lead the way considering Madge is incapable of speaking. "We're going to wash your hands," I tell her softly, my hand finds its way to her waist to guide her, to comfort her. "Okay?" She doesn't answer, but I'm pretty sure I should keep talking to her. It's like how Mrs. Everdeen would talk to her patients even though they were unconscious. "Nice and clean. Good as new."

"She's not gonna answer you," Thresh grumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I don't know why you keep…" He trails off as I shoot a glare over my shoulder, and then he lifts his shoulders innocently.

Rue told me that after Madge would kill someone she wouldn't talk for awhile. It doesn't help if I treat her like she's crazy, I have to treat her like she's normal. She'll bounce back eventually, she's done it before. I just have to treat her like she's normal.

Once we reach the river I kneel down, Madge slowly does the same. Thresh takes a walk down the edge of the river while still staying in my eyesight, and then he wades in up to his waist. After a few minutes he dunks himself fully, I wonder what it feels like to get some sense of clean. I decide to do the same.

"Alright Madge," I grab her hands and ignore what they're coated in. "I'm going to wade in and then pull your hands in, okay?" Still, she doesn't respond. I can only pretend that she's been listening to me. She's got to be listening to me.

I pull my socks and shoes off, not caring if my pants get wet but wanting to make sure my feet will stay dry so I can prevent illness. The water is cool and feels nice on this hot morning. After I'm up to my waist in the river just like Thresh I grab her hands. Madge leans in and allows me to scrape her skin clean. Red soaks the water until it catches the current and disappears down the stream. "Let me know if I hurt you," I say gently, massaging my hands over hers until every foul bit of the boy from District 4 is gone. I even claw under her fingernails to make sure it's all gone for good.

Once I'm done with her hands I let them go, she pulls them into her lap and a sigh escapes her. I almost expect her to say thank you, to say _something_, but she doesn't. Her eyes stare past me and I take the moment to clean myself, dunking myself under the water and pulling my hands through my hair. Sure I don't have any soap but I can feel the dirt easing off of me. I ring my shirt and my pants, even cleaning it the tiniest bit might help. After I feel mostly clean, as clean as I can _get_ in a time like this, I clamber back onto the shore. Thresh is still down in the river, he floats on his back and stares at the clouds.

I turn to Madge again, "You want to clean yourself off?" Her eyes seem to have turned back to their oceanic blue. I cup her cheek and bring her gaze up to mine. "Madge, do you want to clean yourself off?" Yet again I'm answered with silence. I chew the inside of my cheek and drop her chin, laying back on a rock and letting the sun hit me. It warms my body instantly, I haven't been lying out for a few moments when I feel like my clothes are mostly dry, the Gamemakers are definitely messing with the temperature. "Fine, then don't talk to me." Again, I expect her to answer, but she doesn't.

I can't do this. I can't have Madge going crazy on me! I need to get her to talk, to respond, to do _something_. So I cross a line before I can stop myself.

"You know what," I turn to her, lifting myself up on one hand before crawling across the ground to her. "She screamed my name _too_, Madge. I couldn't get to her in time _either_." To this her eyes become wide and alert, she turns to me and meets my gaze. "And this silence thing? It's not helping anyone. You're just trapping yourself inside your head, you're making yourself go _crazy_, you," I'm cut off when her hand makes contact with my cheek. Raw, pure anger has built up in her at my words. My cheek is on fire but I know I deserved it. I stretch my jaw until the tingle stops and then I open my eyes.

Her face is pained, angry, she lurches for me again but I make no attempt to move because I know I deserve this. Instead of the slap I brace myself for I'm surprised by the frantic press of her lips to mine. Her kiss is desperate, terrified, empty and clinging for some sort of life. Her body molds against mine as her hands rake against my chest. "Madge," I murmur as she pulls away for air, confused at her wave of emotions. Her hands instantly link around my neck and she collapses against my chest with heavy pained breaths. "It's okay."

Okay? No it's not. But what else can I say?

"You shouldn't have said that," she weeps and pounds against my chest with her hands, yet I pull her closer. "You're such an asshole. I hate you, God I hate you." Still, I pull her closer. My clothes are still damp from the river but she doesn't care.

"You're right, I shouldn't have said that. But you don't hate me." I drop my voice as low as I possibly can. She has to understand why I said it. "You hate them." Her head nods weakly and she pulls away. "I needed to know you were still in there," my voice stays hushed. "Listening."

She frowns and her chin quivers, "What did you want me to say? I… Rue… she…" Madge shakes her head frantically; her hand reaches for my cheek and brings me down to look at her. "I wanted to do it," she whispers painfully. "Kill him. Gale, I wanted to kill him."

"Madge," I say again, my voice pleading. I don't want to hear this. I can't. _This is what you wanted_, I remind myself, _to hear her talk_.

She shakes her head and quiets her voice, "It felt _good_. I did it for Rue, but I also did it for me. I'm… I'm turning into…" Before she can continue I press my lips to hers._ Stop talking, please stop talking_. "How can you do that?" Her hands tangle in my hair as she forces tears from her eyes. "Kiss me like that when I've… when I've done what I've done?" Still I answer with another kiss, trying to squeeze out all of the pain I possibly can from her.

"Shhh," I plead, brushing strands of hair from her face as her chin quivers again. "You're still you." Madge tips her head into a no but I kiss her one more time. "Yes, you are." She has to be, she's still the mayor's daughter, the blonde I like to rile up.

"I'm going crazy," she whispers.

I smile as best as I can, "Crazy people don't think they're going crazy." Her lips lift into a weak smile at that but her eyes are still knitted sadly. "You're going to be okay, Madge." She nods once and takes a ragged breath. "I can't have you shutting off on me. I can't. I can't do this without you."

* * *

We find a new cave along the river. Once Thresh joins us again Madge returns to not talking. I squeeze her hand and she'll squeeze back, reminding me that she's still here, just not ready to talk. She's right, what do I want her to say? Do I want her to comfort _me_? Shouldn't it be the other way around? I'm not good with things like this, I never have been. I used to run to avoid my problems. Run and hide in the woods until it passed or I got over it, but I can't do that here.

I spend the rest of the day hunting. I have to trust Madge and Thresh together because we're almost out of food. I need to get us more. I hit a few things, enough to keep us going for a few days, and then head back. My brain is clogged with thoughts I shouldn't be thinking, thoughts about Madge becoming a monster and me just watching from the distance. It was supposed to be switched. I was supposed to be the killer, not her. I was supposed to get blood under my fingernails and fight for my family, for what I believe in. _Not her_.

I'm so distracted that if someone were to attack me I'd be an easy target. Realizing this I return to our new location, Madge and Thresh are on opposite sides of the cave, not speaking. The silence is deadly, I wonder if they've been sitting like this all afternoon.

Instead of asking what they've been doing all day I prepare the meat for us. Thresh watches intently as I skin the animals. Gives him something to do, I guess. After a few minutes Madge gets up to start a fire, I'm thankful she's functioning again. Thankful that she knows what to do without me asking.

Everything we do we do it as if we're following an instruction manual. One step at a time. Moving like robots. We avoid eye contact, we try not to brush each other. Even Madge keeps her distance for awhile. It makes me feel cold, maybe a bit empty. I've gotten used to her nuzzled against me, to the feel of her skin.

I pass out the food, wallowing on the fact that there are less mouths to feed now. "Meat tastes good," Thresh mumbles as he chews.

I can't help but smirk at his attempt for conversation. "Thanks."

Another few minutes pass before he speaks again. "How'd you learn to hunt?"

"I didn't," I say simply. I can't explain things like this in front of Panem. Did he forget we're always on camera? "I've just got good aim." Madge stretches across the cave and places her hand in mine. Her fingers trace across my own, she pulls herself closer into my grasp. Yes, this is what I wanted. The closeness. "What about you," I whisper to Madge, dropping my forehead to hers, "how'd you learn to hunt?"

"I didn't," she says quietly, pulling her forehead away from mine. "I've just good aim." Her eyes darken slightly and I long to know more. More about her, her life, how she has the aim, the stealth. Just as I'm about to ask a silver parachute drops in the front of the cave.

Thresh is the one to retrieve it, his eyes nearly prick with tears at the sight of it. He holds it up to us, a loaf of bread. Madge turns her head away at the sight of it. "It's from 11," he says weakly. "It's still warm."

* * *

"Go on," Thresh mutters as I take the spot beside him. Evening came quick; we're setting up for watch. "Crawl in next to her." I throw a glance over my shoulder at Madge who's curled into a ball in her sleeping bag. Her breath is steady, she might already be asleep. "What's the point of both of us being on watch?"

"Then you sleep," I elbow him lightly. Though I should be grateful that the loss of one of our own has made our friendship empty, I miss the teasing interactions we once shared. "I'm fine." I'm prepared to stay awake, to deal with the empty night and the thoughts that are sure to haunt me.

"No you're not," he grumbles. "She needs you. Go, Hawthorne." God, it's tempting. Crawling into bed with Madge, holding her as we sleep. I want this too. Her warmth, her comfort. I need her too. "_Go_," he says again. I study his face, the terror that lines his eyes. He needs time alone too, this is why he wants me to go. With the smallest smile he says, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna kill you in your sleep." I snort, reveling in the fact that Thresh is soon to be functioning again too. "Get some sleep."

I pat him on the back once, a sign of thanks, and then his smile grows as he tips his head into a nod. Something like friendship. He readjusts himself outside the cave and rubs at his face. I'm leaving him to deal with this alone.

As if Madge had been listening she makes room for me as I reach her, allowing me to slip into her sleeping bag too. She turns and rests her head against my chest. "I was hoping you'd take his offer," she says quietly. My warms wrap around her waist and I nuzzle into her shoulder, savoring her scent, her touch. Her body presses closer against mine. The kisses have been nice, the lingering touches, but nothing like this. I haven't gotten to lay beside her, hold her late at night. She fits perfectly against me. "I can't sleep."

"Close your eyes," I whisper, sneaking a kiss to her forehead. She hesitantly obeys me. "Think of home. Me and you at home. Not here." A faint smile slips onto her face. "That's how it'll be. You can play the piano and read books and…" her hand clutches my chest as the anthem begins playing outside. Her eyes stay shut and the smile disappears. We don't need to see Rue's picture to know it's there, or the boy Madge killed.

"I want to go home," she tells me. "Now."

"Soon," I respond, twisting her hair through my fingers. She frowns but I lean down and snatch a kiss. Her eyes flitter open and her hand reaches up to cup my cheek. She pulls me down for another kiss, her other hand slipping up and knotting in my hair. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you Madge," I tell her as we pause for air.

A weak smile forms on her face as light kisses are exchanged between us. "Sometimes I hate this arena," she says. "Other times I consider myself the luckiest person in the world." The way her voice stays strong I know she means it. That she's not acting. And when I kiss her one last time before we sleep, I'm not acting either.

All I can say is, "Me too."

* * *

When I wake up and stretch my fingers out to find the blonde who kept the nightmares away last night, I find nothing. I sit up in a panic, my fingers curling in the spot where she should be.

"Madge?" I snap my head around and scan the cave, finding her sitting at the entrance alone. She turns back to me, the saddest smile on her face. "What's wrong? Where's Thresh?" I feel like I'm dreaming, like my vision is muddled and hearing is suffocated.

She shrugs, "He left." I raise an eyebrow and she gestures to our things. Instead of three backpacks there are only two. "Took what he needed and left in the middle of the night." My first thought isn't to check our things, I can see my bow and arrow and that's all I really need. Instead my first thought is Madge, how she's feeling, what's going through her mind.

I rub at my face and force myself out of the sleeping bag, needing to touch her to convince myself that she's real and alive and here. As I pull her into my arms I ask, "Why would he do that?"

Again she shrugs. Into my chest she mumbles, "We did agree to split at the final six."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry this took so long! I don't really like it much even though I've edited it like ten thousand times and ugh. I'm in a funk. _


	20. Chapter 20

Madge packs up her things and shoves them into a backpack. I know Thresh wouldn't try to hunt us down or anything of the sort, but we can't stay here just in case.

Him leaving has left me with a sort of sting. He had been planning it, obviously. It's why he told me to go to bed, so he could leave. I don't blame him I suppose, I just wish we could have formally ended it. I like to think that we had some sort of friendship, something that the Capitol couldn't control or mess with.

That's what they did though, mess with a friendship. It never should've happened in the first place.

"Ready?" Madge's gentle voice pulls me out of my thoughts, her hand wraps around my arm. I nod once and she frowns, gripping my arm tighter. "It had to happen, Gale."

"I know," I respond lamely, pulling my arm from her grasp. She sighs but doesn't reach for me again. Instead, she pulls the backpack on tightly. "Got a knife?" She nods, patting her pocket. "Figured we could hunt some before settling, but I want to find a place before it gets too dark."

Madge nods in agreement, following me slowly out of the cave.

The sun is too bright, it makes me squint and lick my teeth. Madge places her hand on my back, urging me forward. It feels like the beginning of the Games again, where every step is careful and planned.

I suppose every day should have felt like this, I just don't like it. I'd give anything to curl back up in the cave with Madge in my arms, listening to her breathe and feeling her skin against mine.

I like Madge, I really do. She's something special; she manages to keep me in check when I need to be just as I balance her out. I think that means something. Things would be different if we were still in the District, if she was still the mayor's daughter and I was still a boy from the Seam, but we're more than that now. If we get home, which I'm determined we will, we'll both be Victors. It won't be about labels anymore, it'll just be her and me.

I think.

She's the only one who will understand what I've been through, the only one that will be able to give me the right amount of comfort. That has to count for something. I just… I just keep thinking about Katniss.

How does Katniss feel when she sees us together? Is she angry? Jealous? None of the above? Before all of this started I liked to think that Katniss and I would get married, and before all of this started that's probably what would have happened. I loved her, love her, but how? I don't know. She isn't comparable to Madge, I don't think. They're two different people living two different lives. Two separate souls on two different paths.

"Gale," Madge's voice brings me back to the present. "Do you want to stop for a break?" I drop my eyes to her and she offers a weak smile. "You seem distracted."

"Lots on my mind," I reply with a shrug. She turns to her bag and pulls out a water bottle, slowly passing it in my direction. "Thanks." She nods and then brings her own to her mouth; I can't help but stare as she licks her lips.

Would I have ever considered my feelings for Madge if the Games hadn't happened? Probably not, but they have happened, are happening, so I should consider them. I know that I like her, I know that, but is that enough? And how much do I like her?

"Gale," she says again, her lips tugging upward. "Focus, we're out in the open."

I nod, "Right." She takes a step in my direction and presses herself on her toes, skirting her lips quickly across mine. I know one thing for sure, I've never kissed anyone like Madge Undersee. I've never had my heartbeat quicken because of a girl or felt my stomach drop. Madge manages to do all of the above to me.

Her hand slips down my cheek and she scrunches her nose. "Wish you had stubble," she says quietly. "I always liked it." To this I laugh, allowing her to grab my hand and pull me back to our trek.

The morning slips into the afternoon and I shoot down a few bird type things. Madge tells me through a strangled voice that they had them in Rue's District, that she caught a few in some snares back when she was still setting them. By mid afternoon the sun is sweltering and we have to pause every few minutes for a drink of water. Sweat seeps through my shirt and causes it to stick to me in the most obnoxious places.

"We should find a place by the river," I tell her as I wipe my forehead with my sleeve. "Somewhere where it'll stay cool and we'll be able to fill up our water bottles."

Madge opens her mouth to respond but then pauses, cocking her head as if she hears something. Without hesitation I draw an arrow, aiming in the direction she points. Her mouth moves and says something like _human_, I nod in agreement. Why hadn't I heard it before? The crunching footsteps that break branches and hands that cut through bushes. Maybe only one, I can't tell. It depends on how many know how to walk silently.

I see a figure moving through the vines and just as I'm about to release an arrow I hear another crunch coming from behind me. Madge is suddenly sprinting, one of the most dangerous things she could've done in this situation. Before I know it I hear a feminine screech, one that could belong to Madge or the attacker, I'm not sure.

The same figure from the vines steps into the open and I don't hesitate this time, sending an arrow through the chest of the on comer. I make eye contact with her as she falls, the girl from District 4, and then her body is nothing but a pile on the ground. She coughs a few times and attempts to pull the arrow from her chest. Each noise she emits sends a wave of agony through me as I watch her bleed out.

The cannon fires and I stumble backwards, staring at the girl on the ground. My first kill. Now, just looking at her, she looks so… normal. She was a Career, born and bred to kill, but in death so… innocent. Her messy brown hair is pulled back in two strange ponytails, her skin is pale and cold. She's dead and I've killed her.

I can't help but look down at my hands; I expect them to be covered in blood only they aren't. This wasn't a hand-to-hand kill, it was like killing an animal. I bite my tongue and force my eyes closed. Why was it so simple? They've made it so _simple _for me to kill. So _easy_. What was her name? How old was she? Her friends back in the District must be crying, her family devastated. All because of me and one measly arrow.

Too sudden, too quick, why was she here in the first place? Did the other Careers cast her out because she didn't have a partner anymore? Maybe she split because she knew they would kill her?

I quickly sprint over to her body and retrieve the arrow, thrusting it back into the quiver without a second glance. I peel the backpack off of her as fast as I can unsure of what's in it and throw it around my back. Then I charge away from her, unable to look back. Dead, she's dead. She's dead and I killed her and stole her supplies. The more I linger on the fact the harder it gets to swallow, the harder to breathe.

I'm suddenly brought back to reality by a grunt of pain, another female sound that couldn't belong to the District 4 girl. "Madge?" My feet carry me in the direction of the noise, panic bubbling up inside me. "Madge!" I knew she shouldn't have run, I knew something would happen if she ran!

It feels like minutes before I find her but I know it's only seconds. She writhes in pain on the ground, her hand clawing the dirt and trying to take deep breaths.

"Gale," she chokes out, lifting her head to look at me. She's fighting back tears, her eyebrows are knit horridly, and then I see it. The knife sticking out of the side of her abdomen. I pause in my step as she forces herself to take a breath. "_Help,_" she whispers.

I can't stop my chin from quivering but I lean down anyway, scooping her up in my arms. What do I do? Leave it in, I know I have to leave it in to stifle the blood flow. Damn, it's not enough though! Blood still leaks from the wound and she's already shaking.

It's all happening too fast for me to process, the way I cradle her in my arms and squeeze my eyes shut, praying that she makes it back to the cave with a beating heart. How deep is the wound? Do I have things that can fix it? What if I don't? She's dying, damnit she's dying…

"Madge, don't," I hold her tightly and sprint through the woods. "Breathe, you have to breathe." I alternate from staring at her wound and watching my feet. I have to be careful not to let the knife dig in deeper as well as making sure I don't take it out. Either will be bad, either will result in a quick death. "Stay with me," I command, watching her eyes flitter shut as she cringes.

I don't remember how I get back to the cave. All I could focus on was the way her body twitched in my arms, the way Madge's breath went shallow. Gentle, I have to be gentle. I lay her on the floor as soft as I can before digging around for the sleeping bags. Once I have them laid out I scoot her over, taking a moment to inhale. Her eyes force together as she coughs, I grab her face in my hands and wait until she opens her eyes.

"I, I-I'm sorry," her voice is so weak, so soft already.

I can't stop shaking my head, "Not your fault. I'm gonna fix you, I'm gonna _fix _you. I swear it." She shakes her head too, I pull her hand into mine and she squeezes with all of her might. "Damnit, Madge! What happened?"

"Saw," she pauses to cough. "Saw the girl from 4." I nod as she pants, letting tears drip down her eyes. "I tried to show you but you… faced other way… I ran," again she coughs and I cringe, dropping my head down to her hand. "Aim not as good as yours, had to outrun her." Again I'm shaking my head, listening to her failing voice. "She threw the knife… it… I heard a cannon did you?" I nod and press my lips to her hand.

"Got her," I say weakly. Desperate to change the subject from the girl from 4 I say, "I can fix you, I know I can." Her eyes drop to the wound and Madge bites back a sob, throwing her head back as she cringes. "I'll figure something out, Madge. I will. Okay? I can do this."

I slip my hand from hers to reach for the backpacks but she grunts in protest. "Don't leave me," she pleads. "_Please,_ don't leave me."

"I'm right here," I murmur, tearing my eyes from her so I can look for the backpack with the medicine.

Quickly I rifle through the District 4 backpack and tear open the first aid kid. There're bandages and medicine but I can't think of what to give her. What would Mrs. Everdeen do? What about Prim? Or my mother?

"Gale," she says again. "Stop, stop _looking_." I shake my head frantically, digging through the rest of the bags and searching for another first aid kit. "Gale!" Her voice waves and I drop my head into my hands, sucking in a sharp breath. "I'm going to die, okay?"

"No," I force out. "No, you aren't I won't let you."

"I _am_," she says again. I turn to her and chew on the inside of my cheek to stop from crying out. Her skin is cool but her forehead is hot; her eyes are light and empty. "I'm going to die." Again I'm shaking my head, leaning over her and grabbing her hand desperately. "Just pull the knife out and let me. Please. Please just let me."

"_No_," I push her bangs out of her face and lower my forehead to hers. "I can't, I can't do that, Madge. Don't make me."

"Then I'll do it," she chokes, lifting her hand toward the handle. I smack it away before it reaches. "What choice do I have?"

"Let me go fight," I whisper. "Let me out and I'll get them all and then we can go back."

"There's not enough time," she whimpers. "Not enough time, I can already… already feel it…" Again I'm shaking my head, watching as she closes her eyes tightly. "It _hurts_, Gale. It _hurts_." Time, that's all we need. With time I can do anything, anything is possible. I can save her, I have to. I can, I can _do _this.

Again I'm looking at her wound, my fingers lightly wiping up the blood from around it. "It's not that bad," I tell her honestly, trying to find a steadiness to my voice. "Really, Madge, it isn't. Haymitch… Haymitch will send something. If we can hold out until then you can make it, I know it." She shakes her head but I nod, desperate to get her to hold on. "He likes you more," I say quietly. "He'll get you some medicine. I swear he will."

"What if he doesn't?" Tears drip down her cheeks despite how hard she tries to stop them. "I don't have anything to go _back_ to, Gale. Listen to me," I shake my head and she attempts to lift herself up. Once she moves I panic and make sure she's flat on the ground. "_Listen to me!_ I have nothing to go back to! If I die then…"

"Goddamn, Madge, you aren't dying! I'm not letting you!" The ferocity of my voice causes her to tense. "You can't make me go back without you because I won't, okay?" Her eyes find mine and she tips her head into a nod. "Please, just please. Let me… let me clean it and…" I can't find the words to continue but she nods again, squeezing her eyes shut. My hands shake as I dig back through the medicines and bandages.

Knowing I need to leave the knife in to stop the blood flow but still clean the wound, I carefully dab around the cut. She cringes but doesn't say anything, allowing me to cleanse her skin. Once all the blood is gone and only a bit is still leaking I tape bandages around the knife, also securing it in place.

"Let me know if I hurt you," I say; she weakly nods. "You can't give up, please don't give up. Please, please don't." Please, it's the only thing I can say. Please. Please. _Please_ don't leave me here, _please_ don't die. Please. Her eyes find mine and I can see the pain reflected in them. "I can't go back without you, I can't."

"Yes you can," she coughs, chewing her lip once she's done and taking a deep breath. "You can go back to your family and friends and…" Madge stops talking when she sees me shaking my head. "Why not?"

Instead of answering her I find some pills that will slow down the guaranteed infection. I crawl across the cave floor and lift her head into my lap, slipping the pills into her mouth and then pouring in some water.

She doesn't get it. I can't go back and just be with Haymitch, or my family, or anyone. She's the only one that understands what it's like; she's the only one who can comfort me after this. She's not _allowed_ to die, because if she does then all my strength to win will be gone. I don't know how…

"Think about Posy," she says quietly. Again I don't answer, instead I brush my fingers through her hair and chew the inside of my cheek. It's like she knows what to say. "And Rory and Vick. Think about them, Gale."

"Right now you're the only one I'm thinking about," I tell her softly. God damn, how am I supposed to think about my family at a time like this? Madge wants me fighting for them, she already thinks she's going to die. "I'll fix you," I promise her. "Please hang on." My hand finds hers again and we twist our fingers together. She attempts to squeeze my hand but it's so light I nearly cave.

The rest of the night is quiet. Every time Madge closes her eyes I shake her awake again, desperate to keep her breathing. Just this morning she was fine, she was okay… I can't. I can't do this without her, not now that I have her. I don't even what to think about the sound of the cannon, I _can't_ think about the sound of the cannon. Not for her. Not a cannon with Madge Undersee's name on it.

The anthem plays and pulls me from my thoughts. From where I'm sitting I see the picture of the District 4 girl flash and I snap my eyes shut. I wonder how many people she killed, how many families I offered some sort of closure. I wonder how many people she loved, how many friends she had. Madge reaches for my hand again to offer some sort of comfort. Despite the pain she's in she still makes an effort to keep me sane.

Every time her body shakes I clench my teeth together. Seeing her in pain like this, I'd rather take it. I… I'd rather have all the pain instead of her. I've been through hard things before, I can take it. I've fallen out of trees and been attacked by wild animals, I can carry this burden for her. That's not how it works, though, and I can't… I can't help her right now.

I barely get any sleep. The next day I refuse to leave the cave, I never let go of her hand. I force food down her throat because she's too weak to feed herself. I give her more medicine too as well as change her bandages. I try my hardest not to talk because I can't think of anything to say. The day is painfully slow, I should've helped her. I can't just sit around here all day, I have to go fight, I have to save her…

The sun sinks in the sky and very few words have been exchanged between us. As if she senses this Madge rolls on her side to face me. "If I die," she starts, but I cut her off.

"Don't, Madge. Please."

Just to comfort me she says, "I'm not saying I'm going to, but if I do… know that it's not your fault." For the thousandth time I'm shaking my head. I drop down so I can press a kiss to her forehead, I squeeze her hand tighter. "It's not. Gale," she sighs as I cup her cheek. "If I die then don't be upset, okay? I don't have anything to return to when I get home."

"That's a lie."

"It's not," now it's Madge's turn to shake her head. "Two people visited me before we left. Two. My dad and…" I silence her by lightly pressing my lips to hers. She flinches but her body eases at my touch. "And my dad," she whimpers when I pull away. "He… he doesn't care if I…" again I kiss her, listening to her sniffle weakly. Once we part she grabs my shirt and pulls me closer. "Listen to me," she begs, dropping her voice as low as possible. "He's not what everyone thinks, he doesn't _care_, Gale."

"You have me," I say softly. "Isn't that enough? Can't you fight for me?" I can't fight for her if she leaves me here, I can't.

"You're more than enough," her eyes flicker shut. Her hand drops from my chest and she bites her lip. "I just… I don't know how much time I have, and…"

Suddenly the anthem plays outside and Madge pauses in her speech. No faces flash in the sky but I doubt the audience is getting bored with Madge slipping into the uncomforting hands of death. She turns back to me and starts to speak again, but then a blare of trumpets makes her stop. She picks her eyes up to me and I lift my head as well, confused at the sudden noise.

Through the arena booms the triumphant voice of Claudius Templesmith, and he's inviting us to a feast. Madge rolls her eyes and then starts coughing again.

"It's not like we need _food_," she nearly spits, but Templesmith isn't done yet.

"Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast." I drop my eyes to Madge who looks back with intense ferocity. She's already tipping her head into a no. "Each of you needs something desperately. Each of you will find that something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance." The microphone fizzles, and Claudius Templesmith is gone.

"_No_," she says instantly, her hand slipping in to mine as Madge yanks me closer to her.

But this isn't up for debate.

* * *

_A/N: I know it all happened a bit quickly, but that's how it would really feel in the arena. Uncoordinated and quick and confusing, only later when they have time to breath will thoughts be sorted out. _


	21. Chapter 21

"You aren't going," Madge nearly screeches once the announcement has faded. I won't look at her, I'm too busy loading up on things I'm going to need. I'll need my bow and arrow, obviously. I'll need knives if it comes down to a hand-to-hand fight. I'll need… "Gale," Madge's pleading voice finally breaks through and causes me to look at her. "You aren't going," she repeats weakly. Tears shine behind her eyes but there's no way in hell she's going to let them fall. She's too stubborn.

"Yeah, I am."

"No, you _aren't_," again she tries to force herself into a sitting position but I'm too quick. My hands rest on her shoulder and keep her flat on her back. "You're not risking your life for me, for that medicine."

I huff and finally turn myself to her, "And why the hell not?"

Madge chews her lip and shakes her head. "Because you can't." I take a moment to glance down at her wound, studying the way it still leaks blood and how there's still a damn knife in her abdomen. "Stop looking at it," she pleads, throwing her head back against the rocks of the cave and snapping her eyes shut.

"What are you going to do if I go? Hm? Follow me?" My hand slips into hers while her eyes slide open. She continues to stare at the roof of the cave instead of looking towards me. She must be scared. Hell, I'm scared. But I'm not letting Madge die. I can't, I refuse.

"What if I did?"

I scoff and yank my hand from hers, "I'd call you an idiot. You're not going to get anywhere with a knife in your stomach."

"Maybe I'll just take it out," she bites back. Her hand hovers over the handle of the knife and she tentatively wraps her fingers around it. I lock eyes with her and her chin starts to shake. Eventually she drops her hand and holds back a sob. "You can't, you _can't_, what if you die?" Her voice is desperate as she tries to get me to understand, but nothing she says will change my mind.

"What if _you_ die?" Again my hand is in hers and she swallows thickly, squeezing her eyes closed once more. "Am I just supposed to let that happen?"

"Yes," she nods and sniffles. "Yes, you're supposed to let me die so you can win and go home."

"I already told you I'm not going back without you," I mutter.

A life without Madge Undersee. How would that work? It wouldn't. I can already imagine the nightmares, the constant clench of my stomach. How would I be able to go back and pretend like none of this happened? Like I don't care about her? Relish her taste and her feel? Her scent? I can't pretend to be okay, not if she's not with me. I refuse to do that.

Her voice is soft as it pulls me back to reality, "Why not?" As our eyes meet I can see the terror in them. Terror for me, terror for her. Terror for the arena, the other tributes that are left, the Capitol. When do we get to stop being terrified? What can I say to get her to stop being so scared? "Gale," she whispers. "Why can't you go back without me?"

I hesitate, "Because I don't want to." She blinks once and attempts to pull her hand from mine but I squeeze it tighter. I have to say it. I have to say it so she'll let me go. "Because I love you." Her eyes find mine again and she shakes her head. "Yes, I do. Madge, I love you. I can't go back now, back to how it was before. I _can't_."

Her voice is soft but contains the faintest bit of happiness, "You really expect me to let you leave now?"

"If you die…" the words get caught in my throat and I drop my head. Templesmith said that this is our last chance. Her last chance. "I can't let that… I can't…" Madge attempts to pull me closer when my voice wavers but I don't let her. Instead I bring my hands to my face and bury it from the world. I suck in a sharp breath and drop my hands. "I'm going, Madge. I have to go."

She needs to know that there's no way she can win this argument. That there's no way in hell I'm going to just let someone else steal our backpack. She needs this. I need her. It's just how it has to be.

"You're stubborn," she whispers, but keeps her eyes on me. "There's no way for me to talk you out of this?" I jerk my head into a no and she frowns. "Fine," her hands reach up to her jacket and slowly unclip the pin she wears. "Then at least take this."

Madge holds her hand out until I take the golden Mockingjay into my own. I raise it up to my line of vision to study and her lips quirk into a smile. "Your pin?"

"So I," now it's her turn to hesitate. "So I can be with you even out there." I can't help but lean down and press my lips against hers. A weak laugh escapes her while her fingers tangle in my hair, keeping me close to her. I savor this last embrace, it takes all I have to pull away from her. Still she keeps her grip on me. "I love you," she murmurs back, her eyes gazing into mine. Her words make me smile even if they aren't true, and I kiss her one more time.

Eventually we break apart and I continue packing my things. I leave her a knife and some food as well as the medical supplies, and I bid her goodbye.

It's bittersweet, really. Being able to go and save her yet at the same time leaving her like this. I have to leave now, at night, so I can get to the Cornucopia in time. It pains me to give one last glance back at her, so I don't. I pretend that she's curled up in the sleeping bag, her eyes shut and she's drifted off to sleep.

I know it's a lie. There's no possible way that she'll be getting any sleep tonight. I won't either.

I'll make it to the Cornucopia and wait. I'll wait until sunrise. And I'll force thoughts of Madge dying out of my head. And I'll force thoughts of killing people away. I'll think about the one task I have to do. Get a backpack. I have to get a backpack. Or I have to die trying.

* * *

I've been stationed at the edge of the forest all night. Sometime in the middle I started to doze off but I quickly snapped my eyes open and willed myself to stay awake. The only thing that kept me hanging on was the pin I forced onto my jacket. The way the golden pin glinted gave me hope.

A Mockingjay. A damn Mockingjay. She's really something, isn't she? I wonder if she knows that it's a sign of the rebellion all those years. Of course she does, Madge is smart. I wonder if there's more to it than just a bird or a symbol.

Just as I start thinking about how I should take her in the woods, _our _woods back home, and show how abundant they still are, a table rises up from the ground. Three backpacks. Three.

2. 11. 12.

I wait for someone else to take the first move, but it's taking too long. Madge is dying. Madge is dying and I need to get that backpack and return to her as fast as I possibly can. So I sprint.

I have an arrow loaded and I run, constantly spinning in circles to assess the woods around me. All I can hear is my heavy breathing, all I can feel is my heart thudding in my chest. The girl from 2 is a wizard with knives. The _boy_ from 2 could chop my head clean off with one of his swords. Thresh… I don't know.

The second I reach my backpack I hear a knife zip past my head. I'm on the ground instantly, casting a glance in the direction it came. Of course, it's the girl from 2. Clove, that's her name, and she has plenty more knives in that stupid jacket of hers just waiting to barrel toward me. I roll and get my arrow loaded, pulling it back and sending it in her direction once she's in the clear.

It lands in her left forearm and she grunts in pain, leaving it while continuing to run toward me.

"Go to hell, 12," she hisses, rearing her arm back again. Damnit, she's right handed. I go to load another arrow as one more knife shoots in my direction. Thankfully I'm out of the way just in time and can position the arrow automatically without having to focus on it. "Stay _still_," she commands, yet I'm on my feet before she can stop me.

Another knife is hurdling in my direction but I deflect it with my bow. "Give it up," I snarl, sending another arrow in her direction. She's a lot smaller than me, a lot quicker. She dodges it and takes this time to jump on me.

I wasn't expecting her force to be so strong, I'm knocked backwards as she collides against me.

"It could've been so _easy_," she hisses as I struggle, attempting to pin her instead of the other way around. "You and that stupid blonde girl. You could've joined _us_. Made _us_ you're allies. Now," she grunts as I hover above her. A sly grin slips on her face as she continues; "now we're going to kill you."

She jerks her knee and hits me where a man should never be hit; I cringe in pain and roll off of her. No matter how hard I try to fight the feeling of nausea and agony it's just something I can't do. The backpack slips from my arm as my vision blurs. I prepare myself for the impact of the knife as force my eyes open. I'm not going to let her have the satisfaction of my keeping my eyes closed while she kills me.

This is it, I'm going to die. She raises her hand and licks her teeth. I'm sorry mom, I should've fought harder. My body jerks in pain. She blows her bangs out of her face. I'm sorry Rory, Vick, Posy. I'm sorry you have to watch this. I hack up the most saliva I can and hurl it in her face. I think it's her face, everything's muddled and it takes all I have not to grunt. Her arm is lowering. I'm sorry, Madge…

As my vision clears another figure takes the scene. Thresh is barreling out of the wheat field at full speed with a machete in his hand. Clove's distracted long enough for me to hike her off of me. Her body collides with the ground and she instantly hops to her toes and releases a knife in Thresh's direction.

This is my chance to flee, my chance to get away. I start back toward the woods again and wince with every step, still trying to recover from when she kneed me. I get half way to the forest edge when I realize I left the backpack. I left the backpack. I have to go get it.

My feet quickly carry me back to the dueling pair, Thresh vs. Clove. Clove takes her backpack quickly and starts sprinting, she runs in my direction and raises her arm. A glint of silver flashes but it's not from a pin, not the way the golden one I'm wearing shines. It's from another knife.

I've already stationed my bow and arrow around on my back, I don't have time to reload, re-aim, shoot her. There's not enough time. She releases it in my direction with a grunt of frustration. Her aim is clearly off as she's shaken up by the District 11 Tribute. The knife lodges into my arm and I stumble backwards, pulling it out while resisting the pain, and raising my arm too.

She's not the only one that knows how to throw a knife.

I'm a hunter at heart. A survivor. Some murderous girl from District 2 isn't going to kill me. I'm going to kill her.

Once she realizes my arm is in the air and it's brandishing a knife, her knife, her eyes widen and she stumbles backwards. "Cato," she chokes out. "Cato!" But it's too late. My knife is flying through the air as she trips backwards. It lodges in her heart. The cannon echoes in the arena. My second kill.

"Clove!" The boy from 2, Cato, he's too late. I hear his noisy footsteps rampaging through the woods. Snapping branches, crunching leaves. "Clove!" He begs for her to answer but she won't. Did he love her? Can Careers love? "Clove! Answer me!"

I don't have time for this. I lunge forward and reach for my backpack which was so easily discarded on the ground. I pause in my step when I realize Thresh has it in his hands.

We stare at each other for a moment, he holds it up as if he's taunting me. "It's for Madge," I choke out. "She's dying." Thresh narrows his eyes in my direction and he dangles it on his fingers. "You don't have to give it to me for me, I know we don't owe each other anything. But Madge, she…"

He tosses it in my direction, I barely catch it from the shock. "Save her," he mutters. "Save her for Rue."

I jerk my head into a nod and them I'm racing back toward the cave. I'm racing away from another kill. Away from Cato pounding through the forest. Away from Thresh and the ties that we once had as friends. Away from the golden Cornucopia and the knives and the blood that's spilled. Away.

I reach the cave in record time, stumbling blindly toward Madge who rests in the center.

"Madge," I call out, dropping down beside her. She doesn't respond and I slide the backpack off of me and onto the floor. My eyes catch on the blood that drips down my jacket from my forearm. The second I realize the cut is there the pain of it hits me, searing and intense through my entire body. "Madge I'm back," I force out, desperate to help her instead of me for now. I dig through the backpack and pull out a jar. Inside the jar is a sticky orange cream, I'm sure that I just have to apply it to the wound. That involves taking the knife out and then quickly slathering it on. I look up as I unscrew the lid. "I'm going to remove the knife, okay?"

She doesn't respond, and as I look toward the knife in her stomach I realize it isn't there. She's already pulled it out. But she isn't awake.

Blood is gushing from her wound now, her skin is nearly ice cold. What if the cannon for Clove wasn't actually a cannon for her? What if it was Madge's? Without hesitation I scoop the cream onto my hand and slather it on her wound.

"What the hell," I lower myself so I can view her cut up closer. Her hand is still loosely around the knife, she pulled it out herself. She pulled the knife from her abdomen and waited for death. Why would she do that? "Madge," I continue to spread the cream until it starts to sizzle. I take that as a good sign and pull my hand away, letting the Capitol medicine work its magic. "Madge wake up," I tap her cheek lightly and beg for her eyes to flitter open. Her body moves but it's soft, weak, empty.

I dig through another backpack for a water bottle and I lightly pour some over her head. "Stay with me," I plead, my hand finding her forehead and cringing when it's cool to the touch. "Damnit, Madge, why…" I know she won't answer me so I lock my jaw and scoot away from her.

I wasn't fast enough. Madge got desperate, she obviously didn't think I was coming back. She… she might have pulled it right when I left. The blood that drips around her is a gigantic puddle. What if she chose this? What if… why didn't I give her sleeping pills? She… I should've known! I should've known she'd do something like this! It's why she gave me the pin, it's why she…

My stomach aches as I rest my head backwards against the wall. My arm throbs as I yank the jacket from my body, reaching in to the jar of cream and spreading it across the wound Clove left. My heart beats slowly as I watch Madge and wait for her to stir.

Will she stir? She has to wake up. If she doesn't…

My eyes drop to the golden pin she entrusted on me when I left. Her pin on my jacket that's now in a lump in the corner of the cave. My arm tingles from the cream and I pull my gaze away from its tiny wings and pointed arrow.

I have nothing to do while I wait for her to wake up. If she wakes up. I have nothing to do while I wait for the cannon, if that's what I'm doing.

I wipe the blood off of Madge's stomach, my fingers ache as I try my hardest to avoid the cream that's seeping into her skin. It's healing her but it has a lot of work to do. Madge has a lot of blood to gain back. After I'm done wiping up the blood I lay out our other sleeping bag, the one Madge and I shared just a few nights ago, and gently move her to it. Once she's situated I brush her golden hair from her face and watch as her lips move to mumble words she won't say.

After that there's nothing left for me to do. My stomach gurgles and I force food down my throat. I command myself to drink a bit of water. And I wait.

I grab her hand in mine and wait. I watch rabbits scurry by the entrance of our cave but have no energy to go after them. I barely have any arrows left; I don't want to look in the quiver to see. The knife Madge pulled from her stomach sits in the corner near my heap of a jacket. It's getting too hot to wear it anyway; I don't need to stare at the rip in the sleeve now.

I drop my forehead to her hand and close my eyes. _Wake up. You have to wake up_. I squeeze tightly but then angrily drop it, listening to it thud against the cave floor.

She's leaving me here. She told me she loves me and now she's _leaving _me here. Willingly. She pulled the knife out so she could die. She wants me to go on without her.

I force my eyes shut again and drop my head into my hands. There's nothing I can do. Nothing I can do. What do I do? What should I do? I can't wait for the cannon, I can't _do _that.

The weight of the day buries into me as I keep my eyes shut. I killed another person. Another girl. A girl who also looked helpless in death. Thresh almost stole our backpack. Almost ran with it. I almost died. Multiple times. Madge almost died. Is dying. Might already be dead.

Her breath is steady, and that's what I focus on. The fact that she's still breathing. In and out of her lungs, her chest moves up and down slowly. Slow and steady. Quiet and soft. Empty yet still there.

And it lulls me to sleep.

As I sleep my elbow is rested on my knee. My dreams are filled with screams, terrible pleas for help. Only when my elbow slips from its precarious perch do I wake up, and I fall onto Madge who's yet to stir.

"Ow," she murmurs, her voice not fully there. The tiredness I possessed when I fell is gone the moment I hear her speak. "_Ahh_… pologize," she rolls on her side and away from me. Her voice is muddled and I study her. She yawns and forces out, "Now."

"Madge?"

"Say _sorry,_"she stretches and rolls back to face me, blinking slowly. I collapse on my knees and pull her face into my hands. "Water… _what_ are you doin'," I close the distance until our noses are touching. "My _pin_," her voice is so foggy I can't help but grin. She's out of it. She's alive.

"Safe and sound," I whisper.

"M'I dead?"

"Not yet you God awful woman," her eyes flutter shut again but she wears a light smile. I know she has to sleep to build up her strength again so I let her. Anything to get her back to me. "Not yet."

* * *

_A/N: I don't know how to write intense scenes I apologize ;~; Other than that, check out my profile! I wrote something for Fandom4LLS and the goal is to raise money for charity. The oneshot I wrote is also Gadge but it's about Peeta and Madge in the Games. Switching things up a bit. Hope you're liking the story. _


	22. Chapter 22

The next time I stir it's oddly hot, considering I slipped off once Madge was out again. I blink until the muck from my eyes is gone and I notice Madge is awake resting against the wall of the cave, her head is back and she breathes slowly. She's started a fire and pokes it gently with a stick. When she sees I'm awake her lips curve into a smile bright enough to count as sunshine.

"Hey," she says softly. I force myself up and quickly close the distance between us. She flinches as she moves but the smile stays prominent on her face. I move her into my lap and rest my forehead against hers. "Good to see you awake."

"Good to see _me_?" I laugh and press my lips to hers, feeling her ease at my touch. "You scared the hell out of me." My hand slips up into her hair and pulls her closer in bunches, frantically capturing her lips with mine. She squirms and a soft giggle escapes her; I divert until I find a way to her collarbone. "Don't do that again," I murmur as she wraps her arms around my neck. Just feeling her against me, her breath against my skin and her hair in my hands, God I don't know. I press one last kiss to her jaw and listen to her sigh. "How do you feel?"

"Crummy," she mutters, causing me to laugh. "But better. Still hurts to move." In one quick motion I capture her in my arms bridal style, carrying her back over to the sleeping bag and laying her down.

"Then sleep." I can't have her getting healed only to die on me again. I can't have the wound reopen, can't let her get an infection. "Besides, you've lost a lot of blood. You need to build it back."

"I'm not useless," she grumbles, yet takes her spot with dignity. She's obviously not useless if she thought it necessary to build a damn fire the minute she awoke. How long has she even been up? I ease next to her and she shifts her head to rest on my lap. My fingers instantly twist in her hair, spinning around each lock of hair. She's alive. I should be pleased she's well enough to get up and make a fire. I wonder what her cut looks like.

I drop my voice low, "Can I ask you a question?" She rolls on her side and out of my lap to face me and smirks.

"If I can ask you one."

I laugh, "Sure." She nods, gesturing I can ask my question now. The smile slips from my lips and her eyebrows knit, she switches her position until I can see her head on. "When I got back from the Feast you… you pulled the knife out." Her eyes drop from mine and the attempts to spin away from me but I cup her face in my hands. "Madge," again our foreheads are touching. "Why'd you do that?"

I lower myself until my nose brushes hers, she finally looks back up at me. "I didn't," she says weakly.

"You're lying." Again her eyes divert so I lightly skim my lips across hers. It's supposed to be a reassuring gesture, to show her that I'm not mad. I'm pissed, she could've died, but she doesn't need to know that. "Why'd you take the knife out?" I ask, my voice soft. Her hand snakes up around my face and she pulls my lips back to hers, kissing me with a sudden passion I hadn't expected. I almost fall on top of her, the way she pulls me backwards. "Madge," I force us apart. "Tell me."

"I-," she drops her forehead to my shoulder. "I was feverish, I was hallucinating, I…"

"Madge," I plead, wrapping my arms tighter around her back.

She sucks in a sharp breath and her fingers curl across my chest. "I heard the cannon," she chokes. "I heard the cannon and I was scared and I thought it was you." I feel her chin quiver against me so I tighten the embrace once more. "I wasn't thinking. If I had been I would've know there were three other people it could've been but all I thought was that it was you, that you were dead and,"

"Shhh," I murmur into her neck. "I'm right here." When she nods it's jerky and quick, she sniffs and buries herself more into my side. "It was Clove," I tell her. "The girl from 2." There's a pause. "It was me."

"How do you feel?" she asks weakly. I know she's not talking about my physical state.

I move my mouth so it's right against her ear. "I don't," I reply softly. "I pretend like it didn't happen." Madge pulls away for a moment and I take the opportunity to sneak in a kiss. The feel of her lips soothes me, the way her mouth curves to fit mine. "You had a question," I whisper against her. She licks them and tips her head into a nod. "Go on."

"Before you left," she chews on her lip and my fingers dance across her cheek, trying to ease her nerves. I love how even _now_ after _everything_, she gets bashful. "You said something." My heart suddenly drops into my stomach; I know what she's going to ask. "You said – you said you love me."

That I did.

Now with time to think I wonder if I do. If I could possibly love Madge Undersee. When I was leaving for the Feast I only said it because I knew she'd let me go, but maybe… I don't know. It flew so naturally when I said it, like I had wanted to say it this whole time.

Her eyes drop from mine but I lift her chin up so she's looking at me. I don't have hours to think about an answer for her, I have to tell her now. And it has to be the answer that the Capitol wants.

"Yes," I lie. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't." Again her eyes drop from mine but this time they're accompanied by pink cheeks. "Hey," my voice is but a breath and she finally looks back up at me. Before I have the chance to ask her something else she launches her lips against mine, smothering me in kisses I'm not prepared for.

It makes me wonder if she really loves _me_. Surely she was just saying that for the cameras too? She's got to know that's what the Capitol wants. She's smart enough to figure these things out.

It also makes me wonder if I'm a good enough actor. Will people at home believe that I love this girl? This infuriating yet perfect girl who gets my heart beating faster than it should? Will Thom think it's true? Will he think I'm a pansy for liking the mayor's kid or will he be proud I snagged one from town? There's no doubt in my mind that our canoodling is a topic of gossip in the mines. What about Katniss? Does she think I've fallen for Madge? Have I fallen for Madge?

Noticing my mouth has stopped reacting Madge pulls away. I force a smile and she laughs, her fingers lift to trail across my lips, the sensation causes massive knots in my stomach.

"You should lay down," I finally get out. She raises an eyebrow but complies, resting down on the sleeping bag. "Can I see the cut?" Madge tips her head as I inch her shirt up. Goosebumps flesh where my fingers brush her skin and I suppress a shudder. I do that to her, the goosebumps. She gives me spine tingling shocks. Damnit.

Her voice is hesitant, "How's it look?"

"Better," I run my finger over the area. "Not even a scar. It's just red." I press on it lightly and she flinches, arching her back and hissing at me. I smirk, "Sorry." I drop her shirt and reach up to her forehead. Must not be completely healed. I'll smear some more of the medicine cream on it later. "You've got a fever though. Anything else wrong with you?"

"Nah," she shrugs.

I lift my eyebrows, "Are you hungry?" She jerks her head and I frown. "Have you eaten?" Another jerk of the head. "Madge," I grumble, striding across to the backpack we have filled with what little food we have. "You've got to eat."

"Yeah and you've got to hunt," she mutters back, resting her head on the palms of her hands. "But you can't do that if it's raining." Raining? I lift my gaze until I view outside the cave, and of course, it's raining. "It's been raining this whole time," she laughs lightly, propping herself up on her elbow.

"Forgive me being a bit distracted that you escaped the grip death to realize something as silly as the _rain_," I fuss, evoking a giggle from her. "How is it you aren't well enough to eat but you're well enough to giggle? Hm?" She sticks her tongue out at me and goes back to lying down. "Maybe it's a good thing that it's raining. It's not like we can go anywhere until you're feeling better."

"I feel fine," she jeers.

"Then eat something," I say. When I return to her I've got a bottle of fever reducing pills and some dried meat. "You can't take these on an empty stomach," I tell her as she eyes me angrily. "And you have to take them." She snatches the supplies from my hand and shovels them down her throat quickly. "Yes, because that's helping."

"I feel like I'll puke it up if I eat it too slow," she mutters, crossing her arms angrily across her chest. I move across the cave floor until I'm behind her and then I lift Madge's head into my lap like before. "You don't have to take care of me."

"You took care of me once," I murmur. Intoxicated or not I remember everything about that night. The way her fingers danced across my forehead, how her dress shaped her body. "Twice," I count off on my fingers, as I remind myself when she coated me in cream to heal my burns. "If you want to count all the little things in between we'd be up to a pretty high number."

"So now you owe me?" she scoffs. "Same old Gale Hawthorne, always thinking he owes people."

I can't help but smile as I let my fingers get lost in her hair, "Am I not allowed to take care of you?" She's right, however. I do owe her. I owe her a lot. Especially when we get home and I confess I don't really love her. I don't love her, do I? I can't, I still don't know everything about her. "Why do you love me?" The question slipped out of me before I could stop it, but now that it hangs in the air I'm glad it's out there. Maybe this will sway my thoughts.

"I," she pauses. My fingers continue to slide through her hair, every once in awhile they'll brush across her nose or down her cheek. "I don't know."

"Liar."

"Gale," she chews on her lip. Goddamn she looks cute as hell as she does it. Who cares that we're coated in a layer of grime and her hair sticks out in every God awful direction, she still shines. Her blue eyes sparkle as she searches the ceiling of the cave as if it'll give her some sort of answer. "Because you're stubborn," she finally mutters. "You're stubborn and close minded and a brat." I drop my jaw as she continues. "You're rude and mean and you confuse me."

"I asked why you love me," I huff, pulling my hands from her hair. "Not why you detest me."

Her lips quirk, "I don't detest you."

"So you don't love me now, then? Only said it incase I died?"

Now it's her turn to huff. Despite my many reminders that she should be _laying down_, she sits up and closes the small amount of distance between us. "You're hopeless," she says softly. "I _love_ you because you're not some cookie cutter person. You don't do what everyone wants you to do just because, you do what _you_ want." Her hand slips up my cheek and back to play with my hair. "You go after what you think is right and you fight for yourself. You're a real person, not some sappy romance novel character."

"Oh."

"Oh?" Madge presses herself closer until I cave, leaning down the rest of the distance to her.

"_Oh_," I repeat. My lips hover over hers but they don't quite touch, I can sense her willing me to close the distance. "I never knew you thought so strongly of me." I feel more than see the smile her lips curve in to, and then I'm kissing her.

Goddamn, Madge Undersee. I might just be in love with you after all.

Her lips moves gently across mine, they part so I can slip my tongue in and she shudders. Screw fevers, this is plenty healthy. I twist so I'm lowering her on the cave floor, careful not to hit her head on any damn rocks or anything. Her body clings to mine, our lips never part. I feel her heartbeat, feel the desperation in each pant of breath every time we part for air. Her fingers curl through my hair and across my chest. Suddenly it's like I'm dying of dehydration and she's the only thing I want to ever drink.

Some sort of moan echoes in the back of her throat and I drop my forehead to hers to suck in another burst of air. Down her neck, across her collarbone. Anywhere and everywhere I can get to her skin, I am.

"Beautiful," I murmur without thinking about it. My hands slip around her waist and I feel her goosebumps. Up her spine, across her ribcage…

"Gale," she laughs and attempts to stop my hands. I look at her as she pries me from her skin. "We're on camera." I groan, rolling my eyes and dipping down to kiss her again. Against my lips she mutters, "Everyone's _watching_."

"Couldn't care less," I admit.

"Your _mother_," she stresses with a snicker. "Your _siblings_."

Sweet God, she's right.

I don't need Rory's taunting comments when I get back or Vick's wide eyes. I certainly don't need Posy pleading to see "that pretty girl you kept kissing". Oh, God. My mom. I most definitely am never going to hear the end of this from her.

Suddenly I feel like I've been stabbed. God only knows what my mother'll do when she realizes I've been faking it this whole time. She'll neuter me! She'll lock me in my room forever! Hand me over to peacekeepers!

I collapse on the ground next to Madge, the part without the sleeping bag, and groan. She turns to me with a smirk, her hands instantly go out to cradle my face.

"Good thing you left my shirt on," she whispers teasingly. Another groan causes her to laugh. Would I have gone that far? Do I _want_ to go that far? Obviously not here in a cave in the Hunger Games but back home? And what happens when we get home? Will we be dating or just friends that like to kiss? A lot. Lots of kissing. Yeah, that'd be good. If it comes down to it at least we'll be friends. Right?

"C'mere," she murmurs, reaching out and pulling me closer. "I'm cold."

"Mhm," I smirk. "Fire's over there." Which reminds me, we should put it out soon. The dark weather outside would make a glowing cave a bit too easy to spot.

Thresh and Cato could be out there hunting us. Hunting me. I did kill Cato's District partner after all. Thresh wouldn't be hunting us though, I don't think. Not after he willingly gave over Madge's medicine. I won't tell her that part if she asks. That he technically was the one to save her life. It'd just make it harder.

"You wanted me to lay down," she shoots back. Girls and their damn ability to manipulate so well. I grudgingly give in, slipping down next to her and letting her curl up to my side.

My lips skirt across her forehead. "Feels cooler," I tell her. "Not much, but still."

"How would you know? I only just took the medicine, it can't be that different."

"You forget I'm from the Seam," I snicker, wrapping my arm around her waist. "The kids got sick all the time. You had to be able to tell a slight temperature chance. Could be the difference between living or dying." She shifts uncomfortably, squeezing closer to my chest. In the arena there's no time to think about poverty differences. We're all on the same level here. But it gets my gears turning. "Madge? How would you dad feel about this?" I gesture to the way she snuggles against me, her chin on my chest.

"I could care less what he thinks," she says lightly. "It's a little too late for his opinion anyway, hm?"

I laugh, "He's the mayor." And believe it or not, his opinion of me is important. Because not only is it an opinion of me, it's an opinion of my family, and it's an opinion of the Seam. Sweet heavens am I going to get chewed out if he learns this was all to just keep us alive.

"Yes," she sighs, dropping so her cheek is against me, "but he's also my father. And he'll never like anyone I want to be with."

"Nothing to do with the fact that I'm from the Seam?"

She snorts, "You won't be from the Seam anymore. You'll be from the Victor's Village." Madge pauses a moment before adding, "I don't care where you're from, actually. I never did."

"That so?"

She hums her yes, shifting her head slightly. "Why else do you think I always tried to look so pretty when you and Katniss stopped by? It's not like I dress up just to sit around the house."

To that I laugh and let my eyes drift shut for a moment. I'm not really in the woods right now, and I'm not in the best physical condition, but it feels like home. Home is so close I can taste it. That's when I realize home isn't a place. It's not the way the door slams shut or the number of mattresses in one room. Home isn't a city or a District.

Home is a person.

* * *

_A/N: Fluff chapter! Huzzah! I always liked how the gamemakers always provided the rain so Katniss and Peeta could get it on LOL. Right, well here's the thing with Gale. He's confused. He doesn't want to love Madge because he's scared what that means. He's never really loved anyone before. So he lies and says that he doesn't love her. Hint hint, he actually does. He just doesn't want to believe he does. If that makes any sense to you. _


	23. Chapter 23

"Gale?" Madge's soft voice pulls me from the darkness of my dreams. I roll on my side, fingers outstretched to the spot where she last fell asleep. It's still warm, only she isn't there. She never is when I wake up.

I groan, "Hmp." Sleep is nice. For once I want to be able to sleep in. For _once_ I'd like to wake up when it isn't _raining_. It's hard enough to fall asleep when the damn cave is leaking puddles. I force myself up on my elbow and scan the small expanse of our cave for her. She sits in the corner, back where my sheath of arrows lies in a heap alongside my ripped jacket and the knife that nearly killed her. "What are you doing? Come back to bed."

Her lips curl but her eyebrows knit, she's obviously amused at my wording. I gesture to the spot next to me, still blinking sleep from my eyes. "Can't sleep," she shrugs it off, tossing the jacket at me. "Why's there a hole in your sleeve?"

"Doesn't matter," I murmur, sleep thick in my throat. I push the jacket out of the way and collapse backwards in the sleeping bag. I'm desperate to hang on to any sort of warmth ever since our fire went out and it's been too wet to start a new one. Madge wrinkles her nose and weighs the knife in her hands. I watch the gesture angrily, annoyed that we still even have the knife. "Put that down, would you?"

"It's not even that sharp," she says, furrowing her brows. Madge pokes at the tip and nicks her finger, it's clearly sharper than it looks. She sucks the small cut and drops the knife back on the ground. "Did you know you only have two arrows left?" Again I groan, rubbing my hands over my face. I didn't want to think about that, the way I lack in arrows. I suppose we could search the woods to find a few but it's not at the top of my list. Not only that but I doubt we'll find any.

Arrows, however, are our best chance at winning. Staking out somewhere and shooting them clean. It isn't a bloody kill, it's simple and easy. I cringe when I realize what I thought. Easy. It's not the same as hunting animals.

I'm tired. I can't wait to get out of this damn arena and sleep for the rest of my life. Madge crawls across the cave floor and onto me, straddling my hips. The laugh that escapes me is groggy, "The hell are you doing?" She reaches down and smacks my cheek lightly. "Madge," I swat her hand away angrily, watching her face brighten.

"What happened at the Feast?" She slips off my hips and takes her previous spot, snuggling up to my side. "You never told me."

"It's not important," I mutter.

I can't get the images out of my head, the way Clove screamed for Cato. I wonder if they had been like me and Madge, curled up and kissing. I think about her friends and family back home, the way they're urging Cato to avenge her. I can't stop thinking about Cato hunting the wilderness for me and Madge, mostly me, hungry and ready to kill.

What was in their pack anyway? What happened to all of their supplies? I don't even _know_, they just didn't have any anymore. They obviously needed something, but what? And why? Did Thresh take it off of Clove's back before he escaped back into the wheat field or did he leave it on her for Cato to snatch?

Madge's hand slips up my neck and her fingers tease the hair on my neck. "You can talk to me, you know," she pokes my stomach.

"Why are you so playful?" I ask, swatting her hand away again. "You're still sick, Madge. You need to lay down."

"I am laying down," she sniffs, rolling on her side so she can't face me. "I just wanted to make you feel better."

"I'm _fine_," I stress, dropping my hand over her waist and pulling her closer to me. At first I think she'll push me away but she willingly back against me. "What's gotten in to you?" Madge turns around quickly so her nose is against my chest, and then she's pushing on my sleeve. "Hey, what are you,"

She doesn't speak, only pushes up the short patch of fabric until it's equal to where the cut on my jacket is. Her finger traces across a dark red blotch. "She cut you." I tip my head into a nod as she lightly presses on the affected area. I flinch and her hand pulls away like she was electrocuted. "Sorry."

"It's fine," I say quickly. My body aches at the memory of Clove kneeing me. I plan on having kids one day, she better not have ruined that for me. Then shortly after that her knife jumped into my skin. Most of the Feast was not good for me, waves of pain after pinches of agony. Thank God I'm still alive. "Just not a pleasant memory."

"What happened?" she asks again, her voice edging on desperate. "I – I need to know."

My hand slips across her cheek, the scar that she's had ever since the first time I saw her in the arena. "You tell me about this," I murmur, "and I'll give you the rundown of the Feast." I'll even tell her about how Thresh gave me the backpack, and how I spit on Clove. Madge's eyes look hesitant so I pull my hand back. "Then I have nothing to say. Madge, nothing happened. She threw a knife at me, I threw a knife at her. Simple as that."

"Well where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"The knife she threw at you," says Madge. "Where's that knife?"

I take a sharp breath before saying, "It's the knife I threw at _her_." Her eyes widen, the bright blue slipping into a darker shade before she nods her head in understanding. "That's it. That's all that happened." If I tell her about Thresh handing over the medicine then Madge will have a harder time killing him if she has to do so. I plan to do it so she won't, she doesn't need more blood on her hands, but just in case.

She pauses before asking, "Did you see him? Thresh?" For a moment I think I spoke his name out loud but the way her eyebrows come together makes it known that it's just casual concern. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," I wave it off. Madge chews on her lip and tips her nose away from me. I think back to Thresh, the way he just appeared. Of course he's fine. He knows how to take care of himself. He's still as large and brutal as he was the day he saved my life in the bloodbath. "It could come down to it, you know. Thresh against us."

"I know," she mutters. "And I'll be fine to do it."

"You aren't doing it," I shoot back, "I am. So don't get your panties in a bunch." Madge lifts her head again and raises one of her eyebrows. "You aren't killing him, don't give me that look." I know she's going to protest so I quickly snatch a kiss. She scrunches her nose when I pull away. "I'll do it, Madge."

"You were friends with him, not me," she whispers.

"We weren't friends," I snap back. "We were allies."

"Gale," Madge taps my chin and pulls me in to another kiss. "Don't get angry with me over something I said." I pull myself from her grip and roll to face the ceiling. Thresh and I weren't friends. Aren't friends. Will never get the chance to be friends. Because of them. The Capitol. Those God awful asshats that find the need to ruin every precious thing in the world, whether it be tangible or not. "Gale," she tries again, urging me to face her. But I won't. "Fine, if you want to kill him then I don't care." Madge crosses her arms before adding, "Let's just hope Cato gets him first."

The thought knots my stomach and I squeeze my eyes shut. I don't want to talk about this. In fact, we're not supposed to talk about this. Like tributes actually care about one another. I don't want to hope that Cato gets him first. I don't want to hope anything. It's too brute forces of nature against one another, maybe they'll destroy each other. Besides, Cato's probably looking for me. I killed Clove, not Thresh. Unless Cato thinks it was Thresh because I was gone by the time he got there.

"We're the only team left," I suddenly say, causing Madge to perk. "Me and you."

"I know," she replies.

"And we're gonna win this," I remind her, eventually rolling back to my side to face her. I need her to know that. Need her to know that I'm not going to let anything else, anyone else hurt her. She's going home in one piece, right alongside me.

"I know," she says again.

I turn to face her despite my earlier anger. "Both of us," I say. "We're going home."

She nods, her lips curving slightly. "There you are," she murmurs softly, her hand cupping my cheek. "I was scared I lost you for a minute." I frown but it only makes her smile widen. "I always thought that when we got in the arena you'd turn in to one of those cannibals." I scoff, pulling my face from her grip. I almost plead for her to not make me mad again. I don't like being angry with her. Madge laughs, throwing her head back. "Hey, I'm just being honest. I thought you'd go crazy and kill everyone." Then she frowns, "Turns out that was me."

"Madge," I grunt as a sigh escapes her. "I thought you'd be dead on the first day, if that means anything."

"Hate to disappoint," she smirks, but her eyes are still glazed over in sadness.

"Every night when they'd show the pictures in the sky I'd hold my breath and pray it wasn't you. Every time a cannon went off I paused in whatever I was doing and I begged it to be someone else."

"You're lying," she says lightly.

"No I'm not." And really, I'm not. It might've been silent, but it still happened. "I kept thinking about that last night up on the roof and I made you promise to fight. I thought about how the last thing I ever was going to say to you was _good night_. And it wasn't. Hell, that wasn't a good night." Madge hikes herself up on her elbow so she can watch me as I speak. "I was worried out of my skin for you, I didn't want to think about you dying."

Madge leans over me and presses a lingering kiss to my lips. "And now look at us." I laugh as she leans back in, I slow the kiss so I can savor it. Her unsteady breath, the path her fingers take across my chest. God, _look at us_. Her eyelashes tickle my cheek and her nose brushes my skin. "Gale," she breathes against my lips and gives me goosebumps. "When did you decide?"

"Hm?"

She pulls away, letting her hair bounce over her shoulders as she steadies herself. "When did you decide? That night," her cheeks turn pink as she diverts her eyes, "you said you didn't know. Now you… you obviously know now. Right?"

Oh, yeah. That's right.

I laugh, because I still have absolutely no idea how I really feel about her. "Yeah. Alright, I guess I _decided_ when I realized you had been protecting Rue all this time." At the mention of the little girl's name her eyes instantly water, but she still keeps a weak smile on her face. I should've known better not to mention it, but it's true. This is what she wanted, the truth. And this is when I first considered my attachment to Madge Undersee. "You would go out of your way to protect a little girl that you didn't even know. I could only hope someone did something like that for one of my siblings if they got Reaped."

"I was just doing what I thought was right," she admits.

"Exactly," I murmur, forcing her lips against mine quickly. "No one else would've done that." Madge's hands snake around my neck and she leans backwards, the faintest smile on her lips. "Then there was that time I heard a cannon and thought it was you…" I slip my grip to her waist and her ankles latch behind me.

"I thought it was you too," she murmurs. "I heard Thresh calling for Rue but not you calling for me."

"Didn't want to get my hopes up," I respond. "Madge, if I lost you," I frown, shaking my head not knowing how to continue. "I just don't know what I'd do."

"You'd fight," she answers for me. Her voice is strong and determined. "You'd fight for me and go home for me." I go to start shaking my head again but she stops me, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at her. "Yes. You would. Is that clear? There are plenty of girls back home who can replace me and,"

"Stop," I growl. Madge's eyes widen as I slide my hands up her back, forcing her closer. "No one can replace you and no one's _going_ to replace you. I don't want anyone else."

"There were plenty girls before me," she whispers as I kiss down her neck. "Why can't there be any after me?"

"I already said," I murmur against her, "that I don't want anyone else. I don't care who it is, they aren't _you_." Her breath catches in her throat and I look up, meeting her glassy eyes. "We clear?" She nods weakly and as I bow to her lips to make my point clear, a clattering rings near the entrance of the cave.

Madge slips off me faster than humanly possible and already has a knife in her hand, marching toward the entrance with a determined look in her eye. As I go to stand as well, the knife drops from her hand and the most upbeat laugh I've ever heard escapes her. She glances toward me once and relief eases over my body at the glow of her face.

"It's a parachute," she calls back to me, reaching out into the rain to grab the container. "It's heavy," she tells me as her eyes brighten. I laugh too, it probably isn't that heavy. Considering we haven't had much time to work our arms or anything of the sort we must be a bit out of tune. Madge drops back down on the sleeping bag in front of me and I pull my knees up so there's more room. "And hot," she grins. We pry open the lid and my senses are overwhelmed. Capitol food. My mouth waters and Madge starts laughing again. "Thank God," she grins, passing me one of the fancy plates.

As I go to spoon out some of whatever dish I'm too hungry to figure out the name of, Madge ties her hair back up in a pony. Golden locks stick to her forehead and down her neck from where the rain sprinkled her. She licks her lips but then realizes I've paused. Her eyes crawl back up until they meet mine and her face forms a question. I laugh, pulling my gaze away from her and back down to our gift.

Good to know we still have sponsors.

Completely forgetting about where we had been before the parachute landed we each take small portions. If we keep it lasting a few more days then we should be good until the final three. Someone ought to die sooner or later, that must be why the Gamemakers are controlling the weather. They'll let it drop once someone else dies. Or maybe not. Maybe they're just giving us a break for once. That'd be nice.

Madge and I eat slowly so we don't get sick; nothing had ever tasted as good as this warm soup tastes now. After our first helping we wait a bit before taking the second, knowing we could easily fill our stomachs to the brim. After a second helping is the third. After the third, the fourth. The soup is gone by then but we still have some bread and meat left. I hide it away before we can eat that too, knowing full well that we could.

And that night once we've stored away the food and prepared for bed, I feel great. My arm doesn't hurt much anymore and Madge seems to be healthier. She's regained the color in her cheeks and the sparkle to her eyes. I still make her take infection reducing pills as well as fever pills, but together they work swiftly. She'll be in tiptop shape before the final battle, I'm sure of it.

Madge curls up to my side and she's quickly asleep. With a full stomach for once I feel the urge to nod off too, but I won't. I've got to stay up just in case anyone stumbles upon our cave. My fingers curl through her hair and I feel her chest rise and fall against me. The way she rests against me reminds me of my previous realization, that home is a person. God, I never thought Madge Undersee would be that person. The way her hair shines reminds me of autumn in the woods, the way she teases me often reminds me of my family. She's everything I need embodied into one spectacular person.

Despite feeling wonderful and at ease with everyone and everything, I know this is quick to end. In the pit of my stomach I feel the Games closing. Capitol citizens are impatient, so is the government. They want winners, and they want them soon.

And in the morning once Madge wakes me up, that suspicion is confirmed. The rain has stopped, the birds are outside chirping and full of life. There hasn't been a cannon so I suppose the rain wasn't doing much for a dramatic effect.

"Guess they want it over with," Madge mumbles as she shoves her things into a backpack.

I sigh, "Who doesn't?" She shrugs, striding to the entrance of the cave and taking a peek out. Even from here I can hear the rushing of the overflowing river. "Fill our bottles up, could you?" Madge nods, taking the containers into her hands and exiting the cave. Her eyebrows crawl up her forehead as she searches around her. "Yell if you need me."

She laughs, exiting the cave quickly. This is it. This is the end. I can feel it.

Now with the weather shining and bright all over again Madge and I have to switch locations. It would be too easy for Thresh to find us in this cave again. Once she's back from filling our water bottles I slip mine into my backpack and she does the same with hers. She pats her pocket, demonstrating to me that she has a knife, and I do the same. After that I slip the sheath of arrows on next to my backpack, holding the bow in my hands. Two arrows isn't much but it might be all we'll need.

I cross the cave and pull her hips until she collides with me. "Feeling okay?" I ask her, as she gnaws the inside of her cheek.

She nods. "I'm fine." Madge licks her lips and adds, "Someone saved my life."

I roll my eyes and drop my hold on her. "All I did was get a backpack." Her hand reaches for mine and she gives me a reassuring squeeze. "Well, then we're off."

Stepping outside of the cave is one of the most difficult things I've ever experienced. It had a natural protection, a natural defense. Now we're out in the open, creeping through the woods and glancing between trees. I don't like it. Last time we were out in the open Madge got stabbed.

I force myself to remember that this is the only way we can go home. Madge and I. Both of us. Together. The thought makes me grin to myself. Last night I told her I wanted her and only her, and it was true. No one else will understand me after this, no one else is going to know what it's like. That doesn't mean I love her, it just means no one will ever be able to replace her.

Maybe I should've made her wait in the cave while I went and finished the job. That's safer, right? She'd never let me go alone. The idea slips through my fingers like water and I'm suddenly frowning. She's just as stubborn as I am.

Madge and I eventually pause for a drink. We've only been walking for a few hours and I'm already sweating through my shirt.

"Where are we headed?" she asks as she screws the cap back on her water bottle. "Cornucopia?"

"Yeah, don't know where else to go."

She accepts this as an answer, slipping her water bottle back into her pack. "Do you think this is it? The end?"

I glance up at the sky and around the trees at the forest. "It sure feels like it."

"Last day, too?"

My shoulders lift slightly, "Couldn't tell you. Maybe. I mean we haven't even heard–" a cannon blasts through the air and causes us both to freeze. "Yeah, last day." Madge's eyebrows furrow and she nods, chewing the inside of her cheek. She takes a step closer to me and rests her hand on my forearm as we listen to the silence in the arena. "Guess we should go find out who it was," I whisper.

I don't want to. I don't want to go to the Cornucopia and wait. I don't want to make one last kill. I just want it to be over. I don't want it to be Thresh but hell, why would I want it to be Cato?

And with that, Madge and I begin our final trek. I'm getting us home. This ends tonight.

* * *

_A/N: Next chapter might be the last in the arena. If not then there will be another. Then this story is coming to a close~*. Enjoy it while it lasts, it might be the end altogether. _


	24. Chapter 24

Madge and I make it to the Cornucopia just as night is beginning to fall. She keeps close to me the entire time, I feel like I'm constantly spinning in circles. Her eyes are filled with worry, yet at the same time they flicker with a determination I've never seen before. She's ready for this. I wonder if I am.

We spend the majority of the time pacing. She chews her lip and tugs on her hair and kicks up stones. Madge circles the Cornucopia before it gets too dark and tries digging her knife in to the golden shell. The field in front of us is huge but our attacker could be coming from anywhere.

It's strange to stare out and see all the room. 24 of us were standing here just a week or two ago, I don't even know the date anymore. We stood there and we stared at each other and we prepared to kill or to die. Thresh saved me here. Tributes died here. People slept on this field and drank from that lake and prayed to survive.

And now there're only three of us left. Three tributes. And two are going home tonight.

"What's taking so long?" she huffs, crossing her arms tightly. "And of course, it has to be night." Along with night comes lack of vision, cold, and a disadvantage we aren't prepared for. I grab her wrist and pull her up to me, urging her to keep quiet. "Don't say goodbye," Madge whispers, her fingers on her free hand lightly skirting up and across my cheek. It sets me on fire. "Don't."

I chuckle, leaning in to her grasp. "I wasn't going to." She presses on her tiptoes and her lips graze across mine. God, I can't wait to do that when we're not being watched by all of Panem. Where I don't have to hold back and I can just dip to her collarbone or down her jaw…

"I love you," she murmurs, grabbing my chin so I can't tear away. I can't help but wonder if that was _her_ goodbye. Her lips crook into a smile and it causes me to do the same, nearly dropping the bow just so I can hold her closer. Just as my fingers are about to let go of the slippery weapon, she snaps away from me. She's more alert than I was, her hearing and preparedness is clearly a lot better than mine.

"Cute," a voice calls through the darkness. "I see Madge is better. All healed up." A knot forms in my throat as the on comer steps into the moonlight. It's Thresh. "Maybe Rue was right when she accused you of having cooties."

Madge makes some sort of effort to step in front of me, she's willing to fight this battle, but I knock her out of the way with my elbow. This is my fight. I have to end this. I pull up the bow and nock an arrow in seconds. I stand with the string taut and aim it at him, not willing to meet his eyes. My fingers ache against the string, my insides shake as he makes no attempt to move. I swallow once and adjust my aim, waiting for him to jump out of the way. Only, he doesn't. He just stands there.

"Let it go, Gale," Madge hisses in my ear. He's giving up. He's giving us the win. I can't look at him as he goes down. My fingers slip. The arrow flies. I can't will my eyes shut after all.

Too easy.

Only it's not. The arrow's supposed to lodge in his heart but it bounces off. It was perfect aim. Perfect, he should be dead! The arrow thuds to the ground emptily and Madge takes a step backwards from behind me. Her feet are already taking her away. She's not as prepared as she thought she'd be. Again I narrow my eyes, finally picking up my gaze and meeting his.

"Sorry, Hawthorne," Thresh calls out. "That wouldn't be any fun." Before I know what's happening he lunges toward me. Madge is already pounding away from the pair of us as she figures out how to attack the situation. I'm still fixated in my spot and the bow finally falls from my hands. There's obviously no point in it now. I tear the sheath of arrows from my back to lighten my load, even though it only had one anyway, and then I run after Madge.

She attempts to circle around the Cornucopia but she gets winded quickly. We haven't been doing much running in the arena and her foot slips, causing her to slide and land funny on her ankle. Despite me thinking she's down and out she forces herself back on two legs, charging the rest of the way around the golden object.

I'm not thinking properly and I follow her path. If I had known what I was doing I would've taken an alternate route, guided Thresh away from her, but I'm not thinking.

Thresh isn't too good with aim but he tries anyway, rearing his arm back and sending whatever sharp weapon he has in our direction.

"Gale!" Madge is shrieking. "Duck!" I collapse on my stomach and hear the knife whiz past me. Madge screams again and I pick my head up, scanning the ground for her. And when I find her… oh God.

I roll on my back and push myself on my feet. I won't run away from this. I charge back at Thresh but he's stronger than me. He grabs my shoulders and slams me against the ground. "You're gonna kill her," I hiss. "You saved her life and now you're gonna kill her! You threw a knife at her back you _coward_!"

"I have to do this," Thresh grunts. "I HAVE TO DO THIS!" The force of his words shock me, he gets me pinned to the ground. "I have to get back for Rue," he weeps. Tears trickle down his cheeks as he grinds my body into the ground, my shoulders digging in to rocks and my back being clawed, "I'm sorry. I'm _sorry_, but I have to get back for her," as he pauses to hold back a sob I knee him in the stomach. I feel some sort of shield, he's got some sort of protection across his body.

There's no time for sympathy here. If I don't kill him now then Madge is going to die.

Thresh flinches as I try to pry him off, only slightly considering he has an extra level of protection, and I slip from under his grip. I slide my hand down my side trying to find the knife I hid there earlier only it must've fallen out because I can't locate it. My eyes pick up back towards where Madge was, hunched over with a knife in her back. The moon being our only source of light is throwing me off, I can't find her. She must've crawled somewhere.

"Hawthorne," Thresh pleads. "Let me go home. Let me _win_. Let me win for _her_." For Rue, Goddamit. He wants me to let him go home so he can live on for _Rue._ "I promised her I'd win. I _promised_ her!"

"You know what that means," I choke back, using my arms to crawl across the ground away from him. "That means giving myself over." He lunges for me again, trapping me under his fierce grip against the slippery grass. "I can't do that, I can't just give up."

"Then this is how it has to be," he bellows, his eyes taking on a dangerous shade. His hands claw up my body, desperate to find my neck. It's not that easy, I'm not letting him kill me. My feet press into his stomach and urge him away, despairing for air. His fingers grip tighter and starts blot my vision, it's getting harder and harder to force him away. I try to kick, squirm, anything to get him to let me go. I suck in one more breath, one _last_ breath, and his grip suddenly lessens.

His hands drop completely and I collide with the ground, choking for air and coughing until I'm sure I'm breathing again. It takes a moment for my vision to regain, it's clotted in black and I can barely register where I am. I slide backwards on my elbows as fast as I can but then I'm frozen, watching the scene that's unfolded before me. Thresh sways above me, his eyes blinking but unseeing. They stare at me and no longer try to hold back tears.

His hands reach up for the arrow that's piercing his throat, he starts to gag. Blood rushes from his mouth and throat and splatters over me. I can only continue to slide backwards on my elbows while suppressing the urge to gag. The cannon echoes in the arena while he's still in the air, and then his body collapses on top of mine.

I hear a pant and a suppressed sob, my eyes lift and I find Madge limply standing with the bow in her hand.

"Sorry," she whispers, and then she, too, collapses on the ground. I heave Thresh's dead body off of me with a heavy heart and force myself onto my feet, quickly racing across the arena until I'm at her side. She's coughing and a trail of blood drips from the corner of her mouth. I wipe it up with my finger and drag it across my shirt. "He hit me," she drags out. "In the back, I rolled on to it, I…"

"It's okay," I murmur, slipping my hands on to her face. "It's okay, he's dead. He's dead, Madge. We won, they'll fix you." Her chin quivers until she forms a bitsy smile. "We won," I repeat with a laugh. I lift my head to the sky and shout it for the world to hear. "We won!"

"Gale," she grabs my hand. "Why are – aren't they coming?" Her chest heaves desperately as she searches the sky. "They're supposed to… come…" Madge's words become faint and her breathing is suddenly shallow. Her skin is cold to the touch.

Before I can say anything else the hovercraft comes and takes Thresh's body. Now they'll come for us, I know it! Now they can fix Madge and we can go home!

"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games," Claudius Templesmith's voice suddenly calls into the darkness. I lift my head and scan the sky, the hovercraft should be coming. We should hear the cheers of the Capitol. Something's wrong. "The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed," he says. "Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."

There's a sudden burst of static, and then he's gone. Madge lets her hand slip out of mine and she brings it up to wipe her watery eyes.

"Go home," she whimpers.

"No," I shake my head and march away from her. "No, I won't. Take us both!" I throw my hands up to the sky and pace the area around her. "Take us both, now!"

"Gale, please," she pleads. Madge holds up both of her hands to show me and they're caked in fresh, sticky blood. "They won't t-take me, you're going to w-win. I'm going to d-die, right here, right now."

"It's both of us or neither of us," I tell her. "You hear me? Both of us or _neither_ of us!"

"It doesn't w-work like that," she pants. Her chin still quivers and tears streak down her face. "It doesn't! Gale, you don't, I can feel…" she trails off and her eyes glass over. "Go home."

"I can't," I drop to her side and pull her face into my hands.

Her pleas are desperate, "You promised you'd fight!"

"I can't go home without you," I repeat. "I can't, I won't, either way it isn't _happening_. Madge," I drop my head to her hand, not caring as the blood gets all over my skin too. I ache to feel her warmth again, and not the kind that coats all over you. The warmth of her hand, of her breath. The brightness to her face, the shining light of living.

"You're going," she pauses to swallow, "to have to." Still, I shake my head. Desperately trying to get her to understand that I won't. I won't go without her. I refuse to go without her. "I love you," she whispers. "Gale, I love you, it's not just for," to silence her my lips find their ways to hers and she whimpers again, causing my heart to twist.

"Madge," I plead. "Hang on, I'll figure something out, you just have to hang _on_. Please. _Please._"

"Do you still have my pin?" I grab her hand and place it on my cheek, nodding quickly so she can feel it. Her brisk blue eyes are already shut, I refuse to believe that I'll never see them again. "Good," she whispers. Even more faintly she adds, "Be a Mockingjay for me." Her voice finally gives out and so does her grip, Madge's hand slips from me and collides with the ground.

I hop back up, she must've blacked out. She's lost too much blood, she's dying. I have to think quick.

"Both of us or neither of us," I choke out again, scanning the ground for the knife that I dropped. The same knife that Madge had lodged into her abdomen only a few days ago. "Both or neither!" I expect a voice to stop me, to tell me to just let her die. But I won't. I can't. "You need a Victor, right?"

Finally the moonlight glints off a shaft of silver, the knife I dropped earlier. I pick it up as quickly as I can and hold it up. "I'll do it," I announce. "I'll do it then you won't get either of us."

I'm sorry, Mom. You have to understand I couldn't do it alone. I love you. I love you all but I couldn't come home. I'm sorry, Rory. You'll have to be the man of the house now. I'm sorry, Vick. Just hold Posy until she stops crying. Posy, Goddamn Posy I'm sorry. Don't mess up like me. Don't be a screw up. Katniss, _please_ teach Rory to hunt. Stay alive. Keep fighting. Don't let them win. Thom, keep on laughing. This isn't your fault, you didn't jinx me. This is my own Goddamn fault. _Forgive me._

"I'm sorry," I whisper once. I close my eyes and extend the knife away from me. "But I can't." I bring the knife back to me with such a force I don't even prepare for the searing pain that digs in to my abdomen where I lodged it. I stumble backwards and rest against the twinkling Cornucopia. It's golden cast is the last thing I'll see, and I don't care. I'm not letting them take me. Just as my vision goes hazy and I pull the knife from the wound. I rest my head back and take a sharp breath, bringing the knife back again and digging it in as hard as I can with what little energy I now posses.

One more and I'm gone, I can feel it. And I'm not scared, because they won't win. I will. I'm getting out of here after all.

As I prepare for the final stab, the one that will take me away forever, I hear something in the arena. It could be a cannon, it could be an announcement. I don't know, because the second I hear it everything fades to black.

* * *

_A/N: Welp. More explanation to come, obviously. Err...? Did you.. like it?_


	25. Chapter 25

When I wake up I'm scared to move. My eyelids are heavy; I don't want to lift them. Everything aches, everything is suffocated. I'm in some sort of room and the only thing in here is a bed. There's one window only I can't see out of it so it's not of much use. It most likely looks into the hallway. It doesn't look like anyone's on the other side.

I'm naked. My hand reaches up to the spot where I dug the knife into my own skin only there's nothing there. It's a bit red, it looks as though I've been burned, but it should heal soon. My body has been scrubbed clean. There's no grease in my hair, no dirt or blood under my finger nails. They're even filed, my nails that is. Perfectly rounded and shined just like they ought to be if you're in the Capitol. The burns and scrapes from Games are mostly gone. Only a few are able to be identified, thin and nearly gone.

I go to sit up but there's a band around my waist, keeping me glued to the bed. Typical. I drop my head backwards and scan the rest of the room. My stomach gurgles, my throat feels rusty. Just as I'm about to call out for someone, anyone, an Avox walks in and rests a tray on my thighs. She presses a button which allows me to sit up and then slips a spoon in to my hand.

I open my mouth to thank her, to ask her a question, only my throat is so raw it doesn't allow it to happen. Once she's gone the first thing I go for is the glass of water on the tray, drinking it all and sighing with relief as it fills my stomach. The rest of the tray is filled with small portions. Warm broth, applesauce. Not what you'd expect for a welcome back meal but I'll take it. I'm starving, and anything warm tastes like heaven.

I wonder how many days I've been out. There's usually a few days between the end of the Games and the presentation of the Victor. How many days left do I have to rest?

Then a thought hits me. Madge.

If I'm here, if I'm alive and well resting in a Capitol hospital, it means she didn't make it. It means I'm the Victor. It means the noise I heard right before I blacked out in the arena was her cannon. It suddenly becomes very hard to swallow. I slide the tray off of me and let it collide with the ground. The sound it makes echoes through the tiny room and I start fumbling with the strap around me. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be their Victor.

I pull and I yank on the band that keeps me ties to the bed but nothing's of use. It won't let me out. I start yelling, hollering for someone to come let me out, only no one comes. Haymitch, Effie, anyone!

I angrily turn to the tubes that hang on the side of my bed and latch to my arm, yanking them off considering I'm useless anyway.

The second they're out of my skin everything becomes hazy, and I slip into unconsciousness.

When I wake again my hearing is muffled; all I hear is the steady rhythm of a heart monitor. People talk but they aren't where I am, maybe in a room near me or something. Someone's hand readjusts in mine and that's what finally causes me to open my eyes.

"Portia?" My voice is scratchy, it doesn't sound like me. I could most definitely go for something to drink. She smiles brightly at me, reaching across to a bedside table and as if she reads my mind she hands me a glass of water. She pours it in my mouth considering I'm reclined and tied down again, and I drink gratefully. Unlike last time I stirred my body is in immense pain. They must've cut the morphling they were feeding to me through a tube. "I feel dead," I choke out, wincing as I roll on my side wrong.

"Hate to disappoint you," she teases lightly, "but your heart's still beating." Portia's smile permanently etched on her face. She looks just like she did when I last saw her. Bright, proud, determined. God, it's good to see her again.

"Madge," I force out, unable to process the thought. She died anyway. She died and I won and now I have to go back alone. I have to face the Capitol and my District and all my friends. Alone. Without her. Dread seeps through my pores and renders me unable to breathe.

But Portia isn't letting that happen. "Just got out of surgery," she finishes my statement for me, "and is just a few rooms over." I narrow my eyes and Portia nods. "She's sleeping."

I don't believe her. The announcement, they said only one winner. They weren't going to let us both come home. "But they said—"

"They changed their minds," she coos. They changed their minds. "You and Madge both won, Gale." My jaw drops before I can stop it and she continues to nod, the smile on her face extending to her ears. "I knew you were a fighter," she whispers proudly, giving my hand a tight squeeze.

"I wanna see her," I murmur, sleep suddenly threatening to overtake me again. I need to see her, I need to know Portia isn't lying to me. I thought… she… she's still alive. She's still alive. We won. We both won! My eyelids droop and despite my body telling me to sleep I wish to be awake. The IVs in my arm tell me I've been drugged. Sleep medicine, it has to be. "I wanna see Madge."

"She's fine," Portia repeats gently. "You can't see her until the reunion though. For the ceremony, everyone wants it to be special." I nod to show her I understand, the motion bounces my brain around my skull and lulls me to sleep.

* * *

When I wake again it isn't Portia sitting next to my bed, but instead Haymitch. His eyebrows are knit and he's deep in thought. Perhaps everything Portia said had been a dream. Haymitch stares at the floor, his eyes darting back and forth as if he's trying to focus on something.

"Haymitch," I grumble. The drunk lifts his gaze and a look of ease spreads across his face. "Hey,"

"Never thought I'd say it," he says lightly, "but it's good to see you Hawthorne." Something like a smile crawls across my face at the approval of this man and he nods once. "Good job." Just as I go to ask _him_ about Madge, about where she is and if I can see her, someone taps on the window looking in to my room. Haymitch glares in their direction. "Give me a moment with one of my Victors, would you?" The Capitol creature stalks away and Haymitch leans close to me.

I force myself to blink, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, "What are you doing?"

"I don't have much time," he whispers harshly. His voice is so soft I have to strain myself to hear him. "I won't see you before the ceremony and I need you to listen to me." I sit up in my bed and narrow my eyes at him. "They're not happy with you. The Capitol, Snow. The only reason both you and Madge are living is because they couldn't risk both of you dying before they had the chance to fix you. You understand me?" I nod, confused at the gruffness of his voice. "I don't know what you did in there, in the arena, but you love her. You will act like you love her because God help me if they figure out that you don't," he pauses to make sure I'm processing.

Again I'm lacking time to think about my feelings, lacking the opportunity to process what everything we did in the arena means. "But I—we're just friends, we,"

"You took an uncalculated risk by telling her you loved her whether you meant it or not," Haymitch growls, angered by my choice of words. "And these are the consequences you'll have to deal with." He looks up as the door opens, someone in a lab coat walks in. "Congratulations," Haymitch suddenly says brightly. "I'll see you after the ceremony."

Haymitch's sudden change in demeanor shocks me and then he's out the door, left for me to answer the questions I have reeling through my head.

Only one of us was supposed to come out of the arena, but both of us came out. Which means telling Madge I don't love her is out of the question, because if I don't actually love her then the Capitol could kill me. Or her. Or my family. Or my friends. I'm supposed to be dead. Or she's supposed to be dead. That means I'm in a lot of trouble.

The woman in the lab smiles brightly at me, nodding and mumbling something about a Victor. She taps a few buttons on a screen and pulls the tubes from my arm. "There are you, Mr. Hawthorne. There are clothes at the end of your bed, Portia will be waiting for you." I nod and she grins again, she must be excited to be tending a winner.

I sit up in bed and slide my feet over the edge, worried that because of my inactivity I'll fall over. My legs are strong and steady, it doesn't take long to get dressed.

I cringe at what they've given me to dress in, an outfit exactly like the one I wore in the arena. What if they've been lying, they're just fixing us up to put me and Madge in our own arena?

I shudder, forcing the thought out of my head. They've never done that before, but then again they've never had two Victors either. After a few steps I glance at myself in the reflection in the window, amazed at how healthy I look. I don't know what I looked like before I got in the hospital but I'm sure it wasn't good. I run my hands through my hair and let out a deep breath. I'm alive, I should be happy. Madge is alive too. I'm going home.

Home to my family and to Katniss and to Thom. Home to my friends, my life, back to normal! Everything is great! With this realization a smile cracks on my face. I make my way toward the door, it slides open as I approach it.

The hallways are clean and white, nearly no one is to be found. At the end of the hall stands Effie alongside Haymitch. Portia lingers behind them, still smiling as brightly as she was when she visited me. Effie runs forward, pulling me in to her arms quickly, patting my back awkwardly.

"I knew you could do it," she sniffs. She's lying, of course. She never had any hopes for me. "I am so proud of you." Haymitch pulls the pink woman away, nodding once to me with another smirk of approval as if our conversation earlier hadn't taken place.

"Come on," Portia beckons for me, reaching out to grab my arm. "We have to get you ready."

She takes me away from my Mentor and my Escort, she takes me away from the cameras and the sickly smell of hospitals. Portia guides me to the elevator and I realize I've been underground the Training Center the entire time. Very far underground. This whole time I've been healing in the same place I learned how to throw spears and helped Madge tie knots. I've been in the place where I used to call her _Undersee_, where I wouldn't talk because I didn't want to end up attached.

We ride up to the 12th floor and it isn't any easier. It's still a glass elevator, I'm still not the biggest fan of heights. My hands wrap tightly around the bars to steady myself and I squeeze my eyes shut. I remind myself that I'm not returning after a day of training, I'm returning to prepare for a ceremony. I'm a Victor. I'm a winner.

The second the doors open my prep team is squeezing me to death. Aelia, Vius, even Prisca is pleased to see me. It's the first time I've seen her smile, she holds me the tightest. They all cheer and jump up and down, circling around me and laughing animatedly. They pull me in to the dining room and I finally get a real meal. Something that's still steaming and fresh and isn't raw. I woof everything down as fast as I can, desperate for seconds.

"Sorry love," Aelia looks disappointed to deny me more. "You'll get sick if you eat too much."

After we've all eaten they take me back to my room to get me ready. The bed I slept in is nicely made, the drawers filled with clothes waiting to adorn another tribute for the next Games. I look back to the place where Madge rested that night I drank too much, where her fingers slipped across my skin and she soothed me. This is where we started, now look at us.

Prisca asks me as the other two collect supplies. "Overwhelming to be back?"

"I guess," I force out, continuing to scan the room. "It's strange. I never… I never thought. I don't know." She smiles, her purple tinted hand stretching out to cup my cheek. "I thought you hated me, Prisca."

"I hated always cleaning up the losers," she says with a laugh. "I was tired of watching them die."

"Reassuring," I murmur. She taps my cheek lightly and then Vius and Aelia return to make me pretty.

They send me through the shower after adapting all the settings to fit me and they scrub my skin until it meets their needs. Apparently I've had a full body polish, which means all my scrapes and cuts in my entire life are _gone_, and I'm not entirely sad to see them go. They reminded me of the struggles I've went through but I won't be struggling anymore. They're just in the past.

As I climb out of the shower I stare at myself in the mirror. I'm deathly skinny. I can count my ribs if I wanted to. Of course I'm not given the chance, Aelia and her still childish accent whisk me off to perfect my hair.

The prep team tries their hardest to include me in the conversation but it's clear they don't exactly know how. They talk about the Games, all the 'exciting' moments that took place. They ask me if I remember this or that and I can only nod or shake my head. I don't want to go into detail about anything simply because it hurts. Rue, Thresh. The two girls that I killed. Everyone's dead.

Sure, to be a winner others had to die, but it's not… it's not fair. It's not right. I just force a smile and nod along with them, pretending as if I agree.

Eventually they're finished cleaning me up. They didn't have much to do after that body polish, but they must have enjoyed being around me. They all wave their goodbyes, even Prisca who I swore wanted me to end up dead, and then Portia enters to finish me up.

"They missed you," she tells me with a laugh. "Couldn't wait to see you again. They always watched together and would always donate to your fund."

I lounge backwards, "That so?"

Portia nods. "But by the time they had scraped up enough money it wasn't the Gale Hawthorne fund anymore, it was the District 12 fund." I smile, looking down and away from her. "Here, put this on."

Portia tosses me a crisp clean white dress shirt and I slip my arms through it. She helps me button it although I try to explain that I'm perfectly capable of buttoning a shirt myself. She tells me she just wants to help because her fingers have been itching for this sort of thing.

"White," I murmur, looking at myself in the mirror. "Why white?"

"Because it looks nice with this," she says, pulling out a blue vest. I squint my eyes at it, studying the golden Mockingjay pin that Madge gave me. "She insisted that you wear it," Portia tells me as she catches me studying it. "I had to agree. It looks nice." I shrug, slipping the vest over my sleeves. As it moves it sparks, exactly like Madge's blue dress on the night of the interviews.

"I thought I was the firey one," I say as she straightens it out for me.

"You were," Portia replies with a light smile.

I've got pants to match the vest, and although it's a bit ridiculous it does make me look younger, healthier. There's some sort of weights in it that make it look filled out so that's nice too. I won't look like a starving boy from the Seam anymore. Because I'm not. I'm a winner. I'm a Victor.

Once I'm dressed I study the attire. The blue sparking vest which brings the word _whimsical_ to mind. Nothing exactly trails from me but every motion I make it's like a sheet of metal being shaken, getting a new image like in waves. It's mystical if I do say so myself. I've even got on a bowtie, and Madge's golden pin shines brightly on my shirt.

"I look innocent," I finally muster out.

Portia wraps her arm around my waist and leans against me. "Remember what Haymitch told you?" she asks quietly. I gaze at her through the mirror and her smile brightens. How does _she_ know what _Haymitch_ told me? "I don't believe everything he does."

"Portia," I frown. Haymitch obviously knows what he's talking about. Everything he said makes sense, everything he told me was right on key. The Capitol being upset because they were shown up, the anger that Snow has for two winners instead of one. What does she_ mean_ she doesn't believe Haymitch?

"Just be yourself," she pats me and then leads me to the door. "Come on, we're going to be late."

Be myself. What's that supposed to mean? As we make our way to the stage I rack my brain trying to decipher the things everyone has been telling me and piece together the things that make sense. Haymitch said I have to love Madge while Portia told me to be myself. She couldn't possibly mean that I already…

My thoughts come to a halt as I hear the rumbling of the crowd. It reminds me that the Games didn't end in the arena, and they don't end tonight. I'll be living them the rest of my life, struggling to impress these people, to keep my family and friends alive because of what I've done, how I got two people home.

Haymitch walks past me to get to the metal plate that will lift him on to the stage, he nods at me once. A silent reminder of what he told me. I have to love her. I have to love her so I can keep her safe, keep everyone I love safe. And I should be terrified, I don't know how to act like I'm in love with someone, this should be difficult. But I'm not. I'm not scared that the Capitol is threatening and terrifying, I'm not shaking out of nerves. Because if it's hard for me to pretend like I'm in love with someone then how could I do it in the arena but not here?

Because I wasn't pretending.

The realization shocks me and then suddenly I'm being lifted on to the stage. I wasn't pretending in the arena. I couldn't have made things like that up off the top of my head, I'm not that witty or charming. I love her. I love Madge. I can't believe it took me this damn long to realize it.

The anthem booms and the audience cheers and Caesar Flickerman is standing in front of us. I feel weightless, at ease. Why did I take me so long to realize this?

* * *

_A/N: Alright, so I thought long and hard about killing one of them off. First I was going to kill Madge and just end the story having Gale realize that he did love her. Second I was going to just end Gale's story. But I couldn't. Not only do I not have the heart, but I also have a followup story already in the works and I couldn't put it all to waste. I hope that doesn't discourage any of you to stop reading. Not only that, but it's about damn time Gale realized he loved her, eh? He'll explain it a bit more next chapter I suppose. And you think it'll all be smooth sailing from here on out, but she's a politician's daughter. Madge knows a lot about a lot of things. You'll see._


	26. Chapter 26

The anthem booms and the audience cheers and Caesar Flickerman is standing in front of us. I feel weightless, at ease. Why did I take me so long to realize this? I'm no actor, no people pleaser. Everything with Madge was natural because it was _true_.

The lights are blinding, the crowd is deafening. I stumble backwards at first only to freeze at the sight of her. Healthy. Alive. Beautiful as all get out. Her hair flows in curls down her back and her cheeks are bright pink. The scar she had in the arena is absent. The dress she's wearing is short and trails behind her with deep red flames like my cape during the Opening Ceremonies. A smile stretches slowly across her face and her footsteps toward me are hesitant, unsure if I want her.

Madge is mine.

Before I know what I'm doing I run towards her, scooping her into my arms and forcing my lips down upon hers. Her arms link around my neck and she presses herself on to her tiptoes. She smiles in to the kiss, pulling away just briefly.

"Hey," she pants as her hand slips up my cheek. I laugh, dipping down against her again. I crave the feel of her lips, the taste of her tongue. The crowd isn't here, it's just me and here. No cameras, no audience, just me and Madge. We stagger backwards, lost in each other, and land on the couch. It used to be just one chair but now it's a loveseat that fits both me and Madge.

Again she pulls away for air and this time I absorb the crowd and focus on the gentle laughter of Caesar Flickerman. "These two lovebirds," he murmurs, the crowd cheering and screaming as he does.

She crawls in to my lap and I can't pull my gaze away from her eyes. Our noses touch and every once in awhile I'll dip in for another kiss too entirely desperate for her. Beautiful, she's so damn beautiful. I forget we're on camera and continue down her jaw, across her neck, down to her collarbone. Her hands tangle in my hair and she giggles, the noise sending shivers down my spine.

As her hands reach for my vest Haymitch clears his throat, effectively reminding us that we _are_ on camera. Madge's cheeks run pink again and she chews her lip, causing me to need another kiss before the interview. The crowd explodes as I brush her bangs from her forehead, a gesture I hadn't known would be so sweet. I just needed to be able to see her eyes, her tiny nose and soft blush.

"You're so beautiful," I whisper. It's so quiet the cameras don't pick it up, just as I wanted it to be. It's a compliment for her and only her, not the entirety of Panem.

Caesar Flickerman jokes around a bit about how far we've come since the interviews and I make no objections. We have come pretty far. Sometime during his speech Madge slips her sandals off and curls up next to my side, nuzzling in to my chest. I plant a kiss on her forehead and wrap my arm around her waist, needing her as close as possible. Her hand finds mine and we lace our fingers, waiting for the show to begin.

It's time for the exactly three hour summary of the Hunger Games, the entire country must be tuned in. Madge and I have to watch all 22 of the other tributes die. We have to relive our kills, our struggles. Her hand squeezes tightly in mine and I feel her take a deep breath. We're not ready for this, but it's not like we have a choice.

The first bit focuses on the Reaping, the chariot ride and training scores. They show every little interaction between us, the way our hands bumped even before the chariot started rolling, the way she reminded me about the bow and arrow before we even walked in to the training center. I never knew that they _recorded_ things like that, but apparently they do. It's the little things that make me smile, the way my hand brushed against hers so often and I hadn't even noticed, the way she watches me out of the corner of her eye when I'm not paying attention. Madge nuzzles closer to me as the Games begin, I don't hesitate to pull her closer.

The bloodbath makes my stomach sink. Madge squeaks as I get trapped under another tribute, her chin quivers as Thresh takes the dirty job and kills them to save me. The camera often flashes to Madge who snagged a backpack and quickly maneuvers through the woods. I know she's keeping her eye out for Rue.

With the video in front of us I can now see what I had been longing to know. Madge didn't lie when she said she found Rue curled in a tree. She didn't lie when she said Haymitch sent her a water bottle filled with water. And Rue most certainly didn't lie when she said Madge attacked Glimmer, unprovoked. I can finally study the battle, the way Madge lured Glimmer away from the group and jumped on her from a tree. From next to me I feel Madge shudder, I only tighten my grip. The fight between the two was deadly, Madge almost dying in the processes. Not only that but it's bloody, it's sickening the way Glimmer was killed and it almost scares me that Madge was capable of that. _Is_ capable of that. The way she slit her throat…

Not only that but Madge's aim is impeccable. She takes out the red headed girl from District 5 with two arrows. The first wounded her, the second kills her instantly. Again she shudders next to me obviously affected by the way she did things in the arena, how it's coming of light to me. The girl from District 5 was so quiet I find myself wondering how Madge was even able to _hear_ her.

The parts with Rue and Thresh are awful. They're terrible and gut wrenching and make me want to tear my eyes out of their sockets. Watching my interactions with Thresh, the way we truly did become _friends_ in the arena and not just allies, it tears me apart. How Madge had Rue curl up to her every night, telling her stories about her life back in District 12, I know Madge is regretting that now that she has to relive it. It doesn't slip past me that Madge often includes me in her stories, how I would stop by with Katniss or things like that. One time she tells Rue about this one time she saw me in the halls at school, it completely escapes me that Madge existed outside of trades. She must've seen me with friends, in the cafeteria, even in the District when I wasn't on the other side of her door but instead myself.

"That's the Gale I liked," Madge tells Rue in the video as the small girl falls asleep. "The one that lived for himself, that lived like no one was watching." She buries herself into my side at the comment but I can't help but smile, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

When Rue dies Madge fights back tears. We have to witness not only the small girl's death but also the other person Madge killed. I listen to Thresh promise to win for Rue, I watch Madge kiss her on her forehead, I watch my three fingered salute. I feel empty at her loss.

They slow down the video at one night, the night Thresh leaves. They show me curled tightly around Madge though she's awake. Her eyes study my features, her fingers dance across them, but I don't stir. She looks up toward Thresh who is sitting by the cave and then soundlessly pries herself from my grip.

"So you're leaving?" she asks gently.

Thresh nods, "It's about time I go." He glances down in my direction. "Don't tell him you knew."

"I won't," Madge responds.

"Tell him I left in the middle of the night and you woke up and I was gone."

"I will," she nods. Her hand rests on his forearm and he nods once at her. "Good luck," she whispers. "I hope it doesn't come down to us."

"Me too, Madge," he replies through a strangled voice. "Watch out for him."

She smiles, though it's weak. "Of course. You watch out for yourself." Again he nods, his eyebrows painfully meeting in the middle of his forehead. "Just go, Thresh," she says. "It's not going to get any easier."

"You two are good friends," he murmurs.

"So are you," she counters gently. "I'm sorry it has to be like this." And then he slips into the night.

I glance down at Madge. She had known that Thresh was leaving? Why didn't she tell me? Had they spoken about it before in hushed voice as I slept? Clearly they were closer than I could have imagined, most likely because of Rue. It makes me angry that they hid something like this from me. She presses her lips tightly together as I stare in her direction, expecting some sort of explanation, but she keeps her eyes on the screen.

When they show the feast Madge pays ample attention, her eyes widening at every movement. She cringes when Clove hits me when a knife, she nearly gasps when Thresh dangles the bag on his fingers in front of me. The look she gives me after Thresh tosses me the bag is unforgiving, I can't figure out why she's so upset.

The rest of the Games continue. Thresh killing Cato, Madge killing Thresh. It's all fast, I try my hardest to not pay attention. I don't want to watch it all again, the way I nearly died in Thresh's grasp only to have Madge nearly die from his knife.

When they say only one winner can come out the entire crowd goes silent. They watch as I dig the knife in to my stomach, Madge squeezes my hand until I lose all feeling. The announcement I heard when I was blacking out wasn't much of an announcement, more of just a panicked screech.

Claudius Templesmith tries to reach me but I'm too far gone, "Wait –!" The hovercrafts show us both being lifted as an announcement echoes through the now empty arena. "Congratulations to the winners of the 74th Annual Hunger Games! Margaret Undersee and Gale Hawthorne! Overcoming all obstacles to find true love!"

The cheers that blasted through the loudspeakers in the arena mesh with the cheers of the crowd in front of us, and then the video is over. Despite me waving and smiling and watching Madge do the same, I feel sick. My stomach is flat and my body is tingling with nerves. We're whisked away to a party in the president's mansion before the feeling goes away.

It's hard to get food at the Victory Banquet because everyone's tripping over each other to get pictures of us or talk to us. We just smile and wave and laugh and play the part of a Victor. Madge is best at it, most likely having attended parties like this before. Her hand never leaves mine. I don't let it.

Eventually we get a moment to ourselves and I pull her to dance, watching as she forces a playful smile. I quirk my eyebrows at her but she says nothing, allowing my hands to link around her back and hers around my neck.

As we start to sway she rests her cheek against my chest, murmuring something so quiet I ask her to repeat it. I drop my forehead to her shoulder so I can hear her. "I said," she whispers, "why didn't you tell me?"

My face contorts into a confused scowl, "Tell you what?"

"That Thresh saved my life," she replies harshly. When I pull away Madge's eyebrows are knitted painfully. "He saved my life and I killed him." Just as I open my mouth so explain something I don't even have an answer for someone taps her on the shoulder. Madge spins, her hand slipping back in to mine and what looks like a genuine smile on her face. It's so sincere, her laugh so bright, I don't even realize that it could be faked. Only it is.

I can't figure out why she's mad at me over that. She said she would've done it anyway, what's the big deal? Not only that but she kept secrets too. I didn't tell her because I knew she wouldn't want to hear it. Because it would make things more difficult in the long run. Doesn't she understand that?

When night finally falls Madge drops my hand unenthusiastically and makes her way to her room without bidding me goodnight. It should make me curious only it doesn't, I'm too tired to question anything. Once her door shuts I turn to Haymitch.

"She's just tired," he says. "Let her sleep."

I can't complain because I'm on the edge of unconsciousness as well. As I curl into my own bed I sigh, reaching out for the spot Madge should be sleeping. Eventually a haze overtakes my mind and I slip into slumber, unquestioning and uncaring about anything.

In the morning my prep team is there again. I'm still sleepy and don't get much word in but they cheer and yell about how amazing it was for them to be in front of all of Panem. Prisca taps my cheeks and narrows her eyes.

"Wake up, Hawthorne," she jeers. "You've got an interview to go to."

Eventually Portia takes over, her warm smile is enough to tell me I don't have to talk. She slips me in to some black pants, a red vest much like the one I worse yesterday over a white shirt. Once I'm dressed she pulls me in to her arms, squeezing them around my chest considering I'm too tall for her to get them around my back.

"Congratulations, Gale," she says quietly. "I'm proud of you." I laugh and hug her back before making my way to the sitting room where the interview will take place.

There are pink and red roses all over the place and I pause to watch Madge converse with Caesar Flickerman. "It looks like you owe me that private concert after all," he laughs, causing Madge to do the same. "Nervous about the interview?"

"I don't get nervous," Madge says back with a smile. She looks lovely, adorned in a pink dress that fits her in all the right ways. Her skin sparkles, most likely covered in some sort of glitter.

"Of course not," Caesar says back. "You're the mayor's daughter."

"Oh it's not that," Madge says as she lowers herself on to the couch. "I just find there's not much to be scared of anymore." With that my stomach clenches and I make my way on to the scene.

I slide on to the couch next to her and she presses up quickly, her lips skirting across mine.

"Good to see you too," I laugh, dipping in again for another kiss. When I lick my lips after, they taste like strawberries. Damn Cinna.

The interview starts and Madge and Caesar take it away, considering Madge is good at public speaking and I'm really not. She has it down to an art by now. They laugh and they bring me in every once in awhile, I'm not the best with words.

"So, Madge," Caesar turns to her. "When you let it slip that you were crushing on Mr. Hawthorne during the interviews how did you feel?"

Madge blushes, "It was mortifying," she admits. "He's… Gale's a bit of a charmer back in the District. He's dated a lot of girls and none of them… none of them were like me." I know she means they were from the Seam or maybe a bit loud. "And I knew he'd have more questions once we were alone so I wasn't quite prepared for that."

"Indeed," Caesar nods. "That would be a bit embarrassing." I squeeze her hand and she squeezes back. "It was obvious from the way you talked about him in the arena that you were in love with him, if I do say so myself."

"Yes," Madge agrees. "No doubt."

"But you, Gale, I think you shocked us all when you told Madge that you loved her. It was such a ride, watching you fall in love with her, but when you _admitted it_, that's when you had all of Panem captivated. I mean during the interviews you were modest at best, explaining how you weren't sure, but obviously by then you were sure. Am I correct?"

"Definitely," I nod.

"When was it that you were sure?"

I think for a moment. Not when I first told her, but I can't say that. I only _just_ realized that I love her. "I'll have to say it was the night in the cave right before our ally left." I avoid using Thresh's name because it's too friendly. He was a friend after all, I don't need any stomach pains. "When I just held her and watched her breathe. I knew… I knew she was mine. That I didn't want anyone to hurt her." She looked so innocent, so fragile that night. I just wanted to hold her.

Caesar smiles brightly at my response but then furrows his brows. "Wasn't it the next day that she was stabbed, however?"

"Yes," I nod painfully. Madge clutches my hand.

"How was that? You decide you're in love and then she nearly dies. It must've been awful."

I swallow and force myself to speak. "I would've done anything to take that pain away from her," I say quietly. "Seeing Madge like that, it… it killed me. If she had died I wouldn't have wanted to go on without her. I couldn't have."

Caesar nods slowly, "You wouldn't have tried to win for her?"

"She wanted me to," I say. "But I don't think I would've had the strength. Coming back without her wasn't an option for me." Madge buries herself in my side and I turn to her, dropping my forehead to hers.

"You're an idiot," she mumbles. "I wanted you to win."

"I did win," I say back, forgetting the cameras are even there. "I won you." I press my lips gently to hers, feeling Madge's hand slide up my cheek. This kiss is different from all the other ones. It's not urgent, it's not impatient or desperate. It's soft, gentle, the sweetest kiss I've ever had. People in the room sigh and I'm brought back to reality, that we're on camera. Madge giggles a bit, nestling herself back against me.

This is somehow a viable transition in to the very end of the Games. "Madge," he turns to her, "you had mostly resigned to dying there in the arena, didn't you?"

She nods, "I thought at that point that there was no other option. That Gale would win and it would be enough for me."

"He clearly wasn't letting that happen, though."

"Clearly," she laughs.

"When you saw on the screen what he did, how did you feel? You had blacked out in the arena by then, you couldn't control anything, you had no knowledge of it."

"Yes," Madge says slowly. "I… I didn't expect it, that's for sure. When I woke up in a Capitol hospital my first thought was that Gale took his own life for me and I… I didn't," she struggles with her words the first time all interview. "I didn't want to go home. Not if he wouldn't be there." Madge glances up at me and her eyebrows knit. "Then they told me we both won and I still… I was confused. Seeing what he did, how he would've taken his life for me, how he _tried_," she chews her lip. "It changed things for me."

Caesar nods, "What about you, Gale? What were you thinking when you drove that knife in to your stomach?"

I was thinking that I didn't want them to have any winner if it couldn't be both of us. I was thinking how I wouldn't play their stupid Game anymore. I was thinking of how I wouldn't let them take her from me.

"I wasn't," I finally say. "When someone you love is nearly gone you lose all control over yourself. I knew I wouldn't be able to go back without Madge. I knew that I'd never be able to go on without her." When I glance down at her a soft pink has spread across her cheeks. "I love you," I say gently, trying to get her to understand that it isn't a show for them. That it's the God honest truth. "And I'm never letting you go."

* * *

_A/N: Gale's a sweetheart when it comes down to it. In my head, anyways. Train ride home in the next chapter. I haven't decided if I want to start an entire new story for the sequel or just continue it on this one. Probably the latter. Yes, there's more once they get home. Interview too cheesy? Idk you tell me man. _


	27. Chapter 27

There're only a few reason as to why I wish to stay in the Capitol. I'm dying to get home, to see my family and friends, but there are things that I'll miss here too. The first is the food. Clearly. The second is the showers. Last, and most importantly though, is Portia. Saying goodbye to her sucks, she's become sort of like a substitute mother to me. She guides me, she leads me, she gets me through. But it's reassuring to know that I'll see her in a few months.

"Remember what I said, Gale," she tells me right before she pushes me toward the train. Her hands cup my face, a reassuring warmth that I'll miss when I get home. "I'm a very perceptive person." I roll my eyes, tightening the hug we share. Then she _literally_ pushes me toward the train.

Madge and I bump into each other as we board, she had been saying goodbye to Cinna. I'm sure she's grown to care for him just like I have Portia. Madge grabs my hand and I lace our fingers, we give one last wave to the Capitol and all their shining cameras as the door slams shut. Once it does she drops my hand, chewing her lip and looking up at me slowly.

"Well," I eventually say. "Now it's just us." She smiles, only it's light and not the smile I would've expected. "You ok?"

She takes a step back from me and glances toward the interior of the train. It's exactly the same, the cushions, the couches, the wallpaper. It almost feels like we're being shipped back to the Games, but we're not. We're going home.

"Yeah," Madge admits weakly. Her voice is strained, she sounds exhausted. "I guess I just… I guess I just thought that I wouldn't be seeing this train again." I reach for her hand to give her some comfort but she moves just before I do. "Don't," she says. "I need to breathe."

"Sure," I frown, but let her slink into her own room.

I guess I need to breathe too. Once Madge's door slides shut I make myself comfortable in the sitting room. Maybe it's good to have a breather every once in awhile. We don't need to be shoved down each other's throats like we have been as of late.

Dinner's being prepared and Effie sits on the couches watching replays of the interview. I marvel at the way we look on camera. Healthy, completely at ease. Madge looks stunning in her dress, the way her skin sparkles, the way she looks up at me as I speak. She's like a damn angel. She curls into my side and I find myself wishing I was back to that moment. I'm awkward on camera but everything comes from the heart. Everything I say sounds cheesy, but it's true. Somehow Madge Undersee has managed to win me over, I want nothing more than to keep her safe now that this whole thing is over with.

"I quite like how they made you wear the pin," Effie leans over on her knees to tell me. She doesn't retract her gaze from the screen but I know she's talking to me. "It shows how she really trusted you, Madge did, how she cared for you so greatly to put that in your possession. It was her aunts, you know." I pause to that, almost leaning back toward her. "In the Games. I spoke to Haymitch while he was drinking and weaseled it out of him. It was her aunts golden pin, very valuable to the family."

"And she had no right to wear it," Haymitch's voice is suddenly pulling us from the screen, from the moment. Effie scrunches her nose in his direction, absorbing the disheveled man, the way his hair tumbles around his forehead. The drunk isn't as drunk as he normally is, only slightly tipsy. "Neither did you," his finger jabs in the air in my direction. "Not ready for this," he murmurs, slumping against the wall.

Effie rolls her eyes and is back to the interview that they air. "I think it's lovely. Don't listen to Haymitch, he's a grouch." She wrinkles her nose and looks in my direction. "Why don't you go get her? Dinner should be soon."

To that I must agree, pushing myself from the couch and meandering until I find her room. I knock once on the door and then let myself in, finding Madge staring aimlessly at the ceiling. She doesn't turn when I make my entrance, nor even make any movement as if she knows I'm there. I know she does though, she's Madge.

So I start slowly. "You never told me the pin was your aunts," I say. I should've just told her that dinner was ready but my curiosity got the best of me. Why would she give me something so valuable.

"Doesn't matter whose pin it is," she murmurs back. "Just that a living tribute had it." I slowly make my way to the edge of her bed and she still doesn't move. "It's why I gave it to you for the Feast," she says. "Because if something happened and you came back and I was dead it would be useless."

"Useless?"

She sighs, "Forget it." I narrow my eyes in her direction, studying the girl I've come to know.

Madge is tired. Bags hang under her eyes as if she hasn't slept since the arena. Her skin is two shades too pale, her bright blue eyes have lost their sparkle. Her chest rises and falls slowly, not quite focusing on anything. What happened to the girl before the Games? The one who was bouncing around the train trying to make light of everything? Or even the Madge I discovered in the arena, the fighter, the determined girl who wanted to go home. Where's she?

"We don't have to do this," Madge says softly. "This pretending. Not when the cameras aren't around." Again I narrow my eyes, confused as to what she's saying. "Gale," Madge finally forces herself up to look at me. "I wasn't born _yesterday_; I know when someone's pretending."

"Pretending about what?"

She rolls her eyes and then collapses back against the bed. "I just said that we don't have to do this," her voice is irritated, almost hurt. Just as she opens her mouth to continue Effie pounds on the door, trilling away about dinner.

All through the meal I consider what Madge is talking about. Pretending? I'm not pretending about anything. Maybe she thinks I don't actually care about her? It makes my tongue taste funny. If that's what she thinks then I resolve to diminish any fears, because it's not true. I do care about her, I _love_ her.

As the gigantic meal ends we all stand up. I go to follow Madge into her room but Haymitch stops us. "Nope, enough of you two."

Effie scoffs, Madge doesn't hesitate to wrap her arms around me. "Haymitch," Madge whimpers, burying herself into my back. It causes my heart to leap. This is the Madge I was missing. She just needed to get back in her vibe, clearly. "Leave us _be_." Her hand slips in to mine and she wraps herself to my side. "Please?" Her voice is so sincere, so desperate, Haymitch pauses.

"Oh, just go," Effie nearly shoves Haymitch away from us. "Go, go!" Madge smiles gratefully, pulling me quickly down the hall with a giggle.

Once we're in her room the bubbly demeanor I had quickly taken a liking to is gone, she drops my hand and rests against the door with a sigh.

I rake my hands through my hair, "I – what?" Maybe she's the one pretending? "Madge, what's going on?"

She holds up her finger, pressing her ear against the door and pausing for a moment. After she deems the silence appropriate she joins me on the bed, though she keeps her distance. Madge won't exactly meet my gaze either, it makes me nervous.

"Listen," she says softly. "I'm the mayor's daughter, Gale, I know when people are lying."

"Lying?" Words bubble out of me in a confused rush. "Who's lying?"

"_You_." I start to shake my head no, ready to explain everything she wants to know, but Madge tugs on the tips of her hair and chews her lip. "Back in the arena… back there you said… you said you loved me when you needed me to let you go. It was out of desperation, not love."

"That's not—"

"And then when we talked about it later you said you fell in love with me because I was protecting Rue." Madge nearly rolls her eyes at this one. "That's pathetic, Gale! Anyone with their head on right would've done what I did!"

No, no it's different. It's different because they _didn't_, because she _did. _Because if Rory or Vick or Posy were in the Games then no one but Madge would've protected _them_. It was how she didn't care about herself winning or losing, which entails dying, but instead protected a young girl. That's selfless, that's…

"I'm a killer," she continues quietly. "I didn't kill like you did. You killed out of self defense I attacked while unprovoked."

"You did what it took to win—"

"Stop defending me!" she shouts. I cringe as Madge's voice claws the ceiling. "I killed because I _wanted_ to, because I _could_. And you're telling me that you _love_ me?" Madge shakes her head and her voice finally drops. "How are you supposed to even _know_ me when _I_ don't even know who I am anymore? I have blood _all over_ my hands, Gale. It was sick what I did and I'm not even going to deny it. It was sick and wrong and it's even worse that it's what I wanted to do." Madge covers her face with her hands and suddenly I'm frozen. "Just get out," she says quietly.

"No," I shake my head and push myself to my feet so I can pace her room. "No, I'm confused. Can you at least _explain _something to me?" Madge weakly lifts her head from her hands but nods.

"Go for it."

"You really think I'd jab a knife into my own stomach for the kicks of it?" She narrows her eyes, perhaps she has an argument for that. "You think I'd risk not going home whatsoever, knowing what they'd do to my family, if I truly deep in my heart didn't know what I was doing?" Her hands slip to the bed, squeezing the sides tightly. "You _think_ that I'd risk my life dodging knives and angry Careers for someone I didn't give two shits about?"

"That's not what I—"

"Don't," I raise a finger, not finished. "You don't make a lick of sense, Undersee," I nearly snap. "So you mean to tell me that this whole time _you've_ been the one pretending? That you don't love me too?"

Madge's eyebrows knit, hurt deflates her face. "You called me Undersee."

I groan, "Well I'm angry!"

She shakes her head, "I haven't been pretending at all, Gale." Madge drops her eyes from me. "Not once has anything I said been a lie. None of the kisses, nothing I've done was an act."

I think of all the times her cheeks went pink. The time her eyes were too weak to meet mine. Madge's hand in mine, how she curled up to my side when she was cold.

"You don't make any sense," I nearly spit. Rage is building up inside me and I don't know how else to take it out. "You think I'm pretending but I'm not, and yet you still… you…"

Madge bares her teeth, "I'm not me anymore! Don't you get that?" She waits until I stop pacing to make eye contact with me. The spark in her eye is back but it's not the one I want. "You don't know me, you never knew the real me. You _can't_ love me."

"Don't you dare try to tell me what I can and can't do." Eventually her stare falters, tears well up in her eyes. "Madge," I sigh, crossing the room to sit next to her, "if you're not even going to let me _try_ then what's the point?"

"I killed Thresh," she says quietly. "The others were different. I didn't know them. But Thresh," Madge's voice gives out. "He was our friend, Gale. He protected you, you protected him. He gave you the _medicine_ that _saved me_." I'm so confused by her mood swings I don't know how to react. Does she want me to wrap my arm around her waist or not? Eventually I do, she caves into my grasp. "And I killed him. I probably still would've if I had known but I could've… I don't know." She whimpers against me, grabbing my hand and squeezing tightly. "I'm so _confused_."

"Then let me help," I whisper.

"You're the only thing I'm sure about," she says with a confident voice, though it wavers toward the end proving to be not as strong as she had hoped. "I know you don't love me."

"Madge," I protest but she slips her hand from mine.

"Go," she tilts toward the door with her head. "Please. Please, just go."

And so I do. Because maybe if I do what she wants she'll realize that I'll do whatever it is to keep her happy. Only once I'm in the hall do her sobs ring through the walls, and I know I should've stayed. Because that would have proved it. As I go to open the door again I realize it's locked.

"Don't bother," Haymitch's slurred voice pulls me from my mission to burst in. "I knew when I saw her in the arena that she'd be one of _them_." Every time I try to swallow it gets stuck in my throat. Finally he continues. "God bless her for still getting out. I don't think she wanted out. Wanted to die, I think."

"You're drunk," I hiss.

"I'm _honest_ when I'm drunk, boy," Haymitch smiles, patting me on the shoulder. "Good thing she's a politician's daughter. Be able to act like everything is stars and sunshine." Once he utters his speech he stumbles down the hall without looking back.

I spend the remained of the evening staring at her door. I wait outside her room. I knock once or twice. An attendant brings me hot chocolate halfway through the night. Madge doesn't cave. The other side of the wall slips into emptiness and I can't even hear her crying anymore. I'm can't decide if that's reassuring or not.

Somehow I wake up in my own bed to Effie knocking on my door telling me that we'll be there soon. I get myself ready quickly, unsure of how I'm supposed to look when I get back to 12. Like a winner? Like a boy from the Seam? Like myself? What do I even look like anymore?

Once glance in the mirror reminds me of what Madge said. That she's not her anymore. And I'm not me anymore either. We're different, of course we're different. How were we expected to get through the Hunger Games without changing? But I feel it inside me. The boy from the Seam. The hunter I became when my father did. The older brother that will do anything to protect his siblings. I'm still here underneath it all, I can see it, I can feel it. Which means Madge is there too, just underneath.

I just have to unearth her.

The train slows and Madge slips from her room, bright and shining as she always seems to have been. She makes light conversation with Effie but avoids talking to me, though out in the public of the train where others will be she curls up to my side. I'm not pretending, she's not pretending, but is she? Madge was right, everything just got more confusing.

As the doors open Madge leaps up and starts toward the light that pools in. Her hand outstretches for mine and for the first time since last night she meets my eyes.

"Everyone needs to think that we—" she starts but I just grab her hand back, cutting her off. I know what people need to think. Haymitch told me himself.

Together we cross the threshold. We say goodbye to the Capitol and hello to our home, to District 12. My eyes scan over everyone, the blinding lights, the cameras that flash, the screaming crowd. They're screaming for me, for _us._ Madge and I wave and a laugh bubbles out of me, her fingers squeeze tight for just a second before she lets go.

Madge rushes down the aisle and I turn to see her embracing a blonde. He picks her up and spins her, laughing and holding her tight. His hands hold her face and she nods, tears dripping from her eyes as they embrace again. Something pricks my stomach and just as I go to follow her I'm stopped.

"Gale!"

Posy.

I snap my head and find my family waiting for me with open arms. My mother's crying, as is Vick, but Posy's sprinting toward me at full speed. She jumps into my arms. "Gale! Gale I knew you'd come home! I love you!"

"Posy," I crush her body to mine and inhale the familiar scent of a fire. "I love you too. God, I love you." She giggled and squirms in my grasp. "I love you so much."

"I knew you'd win!" I pull away to study her face, the small features I had already started to forget. The dirt on her cheek, the button nose and single freckle she has. Her hand cups my face and she giggles again. "You have a big house."

I laugh, unable to drop the grin from my face. "Do I, now?"

She nods, "I already have a pink room." I continue to laugh, squeezing her against me once more.

I drop Posy to the ground and she rushes back, allowing me to step forward and hold the rest of my family. Rory, who looks tired but is evidently happy. Vick, who cries but laughs at the same time. My mother, who can't decide if she wants to yell at me or hold me. My family. My family is here. They still love me.

I glance up from my family and find Katniss and Prim. I find Thom. And they're all here for me. And they all still care. And I'm not just a winner to them, I'm still a friend. I glance toward Madge on the other side of the train platform who awkwardly shakes hands with her father, only to eventually return to the blonde boy who looks familiar.

Again I'm distracted in studying her when Katniss wraps herself around me. "Hey, cuz," she says quietly. I raise an eyebrow but she laughs, tears prick at her eyes but I know Katniss won't let them fall in front of the cameras.

"Catnip," I murmur, tightening my grip. She buries her face into my chest and I inhale deeply. Woods. She smells like the woods. My woods. Our woods.

"You've got a lot to catch up on," she says softly.

Before I have the chance to _catch up_ with anyone on anything, or even say hello to Thom for that matter, peacekeepers are whisking everyone but me and Madge away. Haymitch tips his head and tells us to board the car, Madge slowly makes her way back to me. With a smile she wipes her eyes, watching as makeup comes back on her hands.

"Welcome home," she tells me once we're in the car. I glance out the window, the dirt covered children that clap and the starving adults that wave with bright smiles on their face. Reality is thrown back in my face.

Quietly I whisper, "It's almost good to be back." Almost.

_End of Book One_

* * *

_A/N: Hello hello, we've reached the end. But clearly, there is going to be more. I'm going to just continue it all in this fanfic instead of making a separate though if that's alright with you. Less of me to keep track of and whatnot. In the next 'book' there will be a lot addressed, obviously. Such as the blonde (duh who else would it be) and the awkward embrace with Madge's father. Also back to what Haymitch said with the pin and Madge not wanting to get out. And no doubt about Madge and Gale and their feelings toward each other. She's evidently broken, so he doesn't want to rush her, but you'll see. He'll talk to Thom and Katniss about it. Merp. I don't know. Hope you liked the ending of this part!_


	28. Book 2: Chapter 28

_**Book Two**_

I lean over on my elbow and let out a breath, listening to the static of the voice on the other side. I try to pay attention to Effie's voice, I really do, but I just _can't_. Posy's in the living room with these new dolls I got her, she's pretending to be a teacher. Right now she's telling them about how they need to brush their teeth before bed.

"Gale!" Effie screeches. "Listen to me!"

"I _am_," I grunt back. But I'm not. _You need to pick a hobby_, she tells me. _Something Panem will love!_ What about something _I_ love? I mean I can't exactly go around and set snares just for fun, so what is there to do? I never really had time for anything else but survival, now I have too _much_ time on my hands.

"Then what did I just say?"

I furrow my brow, time to think quick. "Yeah, Ma?" My mother isn't even home, she's over at Haymitch's house scrubbing until it smells like bleach. She doesn't want him being a bad influence on the kids, I don't blame her. "Yeah, I can help with dinner!"

Effie angrily sighs, "Gale!"

"Sorry Effie," I say into the phone. "You know how moms are!" I quickly hang up and let out a sigh of relief, returning to watch Posy play with her dolls. Vick and Rory are in the kitchen working on their homework. Vick doesn't understand multiplication so Rory tries to teach it to him, while Rory isn't the best speller and Vick is a genius when it comes to the alphabet.

Life in Victors Village is… boring, to say the least. Nothing ever happens. I can't work in the mines because I'm a Victor. Not that I wanted to work in the mines in the first place, but at times I feel like it'd be better than just sitting here. I rarely have the chance to escape into the woods. I'm supposed to be working on my hobby but as stated before, I have no idea what I'm good at.

Madge is excelling in her piano playing, they've already recorded her playing a few times for their fancy television shows. I don't get to see her much, mostly because I don't think she wants to see me. Despite how many times I try to tell her I wasn't pretending in the Games, she doesn't believe me much. Not that I know of, anyway.

It feels useless but I'm not about to give up. She's mine, and she's got to realize that sooner or later.

As if reading my thoughts Posy looks up from her toys. "You should go to Madge's house," she tells me. "You look sad."

I laugh, lowering myself to the floor. "I'm not sad, Pose. I'm bored."

"Well you love her so go not be bored." I ruffle Posy's hair and she drops her dolls, lifting her hands so she can fix the mess I've created. "I want to meet her Gale. Bring her for dinner!" I laugh, Posy makes it sound as if we'd have Madge on a platter instead of in a chair eating alongside us. "Go ask her!"

"Yeah, Gale," Rory chimes in from the kitchen. I lift my eyes to my baby brother who's grown into such a man in the short expanse I've been away. He's taller, he's got a more determined gaze in his eyes than he did before I left. One of the best parts about Rory is he doesn't ask about the Games at all. Mom does, even Vick every once in awhile, but not Rory. He knows better than that. "I'll watch the kids; you go over to Madge's. You barely see her."

As long as he's offering.

I tip my head as a thanks and he smiles back. It's good to be home. He returns to his homework but tells Posy to play with her dolls in the kitchen so he can keep his eye on her. I'm grateful for how responsible he's grown since the Games but it also terrifies me. He's still a kid, he should still be living like one. I'm the one that had to grow up too fast, not them. I'm going to make sure they don't.

I pull on a coat and step outside. We've only been home a few weeks. The cameras waiting outside have died out, as well has the constant applause whenever I walk somewhere in town. It's cooled down a bit but there's still a few more weeks until winter. The Victory Tour's still awhile away too.

I quickly cross the few yards down until I reach Madge's house. I know where it is, I've seen her go to it, but I've yet to visit. Ever since the cameras hopped on the train and evicted the District, Madge and I didn't always have to be holding each other hands. She slipped into her own life, a life she didn't want me in at the moment because she wanted to 'breathe', and I tried to adapt to the changes with my family.

My mom still stares at me like I'm a stranger but I know she tries not to. What she said the day I left for the Game often rings in my ears, _I love you too, I always will. Even when you get back, no matter how different you are_. I know she still loves me. She's my mom, but she's still… quiet. She watched me change into a different person and I know she doesn't know how to adjust to it.

Eventually I make it to Madge's house, rapping on the door gently, unsure if she'll answer. I pause and bounce on my heels. A gust of wind whips by and I shiver once, obviously having underestimated the weather. I knock again, this time a bit louder.

"Come in," a voice says softly on the other side. I jiggle the handle until the door opens and step in cautiously.

Madge's house is very much like mine. A bit too big, very spacious. I glance around until I find the blonde I don't get enough of lounging on the couch. Except she's asleep. And her head is in the lap of another blonde. He holds his finger up to his lips, indicating I should be quiet.

"Takes her ages to fall asleep," he says softly. The boy's fingers twirl through her hair much like mine had when we were in the arena together. He has no right. In his other hand, however, is a book. He's clearly reading to pass the time. "She's been out about an hour."

He's been here an hour? Just sitting. Just sitting here in her house, for an hour, with her head on his lap. I lift my eyebrows and a smile quirks on his face. "Sorry, I'm Peeta." He place the book on the armrest of the couch and extends his hand. I slowly make my way across the room to shake it. "Peeta Mellark."

It finally clicks, "Bakery." He nods and drops my hand, returning his fingers to her golden hair. "I'm—"

"Like I don't know who you are," Peeta laughs. I study him for a moment, my eyebrows knitting. "I watched the Games, Gale," he says. "You're all over the TV."

"Yeah," I almost snap. That's not why I was watching him. I decide to keep my temper level so I don't wake her up. Besides, if Madge trusts him enough to fall asleep on his lap then I'm not going to insult her choices. "I'm just confused as to why you're here."

Peeta shrugs, readjusting himself but making sure Madge's head in stable in his lap. "She's my best friend," he tells me. "I come over every day after school." Still, I'm unconvinced. Why haven't I heard his name before? Why didn't Madge talk about him? "Sometimes she'll play the piano, mostly we just talk until she falls asleep. She doesn't sleep much at night."

"Huh."

The blonde laughs, shaking his head at me slowly. "I'm not trying to steal your girl, Gale," he says. "We're just friends."

"Sure."

As if I don't believe him he continues, "Nothing happened."

"Alright, Mellark," I roll my eyes. "I doubt you'd try anything anyway." Not with me being a Victor having killed and he being a boy who works in a bakery. "I'd rip your eyes out."

"No doubt in my mind," he jeers back, but a smile is light on his face. "I'll be sure to pencil in that Gale Hawthorne is a jealous boyfriend, therefore all and every male within the dating age should stay away from Madge." I raise an eyebrow and he laughs again. "You're really upset about this. That she's sleeping on me." I chew the inside of my cheek. Of course I'm upset about it. I haven't _talked_ to her in what feels like ages but meanwhile she's all buddy-buddy with a boy I know nothing about. "I'd be happy to leave if it would appease you."

"Drop it," I mumble. "She's sleeping, let her sleep." I know how hard it is to pass out at night, might as well let her enjoy it.

He nods his head once, his eyes continue to trace me. I act oblivious to the way he studies me just so I have a moment to study _her_. So peaceful in sleep, her chest rises and falls slowly and her cheeks are a soft pink. Her hair isn't tied back, it's loose and falls freely down her shoulders. She looks like Madge Undersee, the mayor's daughter, the Madge before any of this happened.

"Did you just come to see her? Or?"

"Or," I answer softly, still entranced in the way she sleeps. Honestly, I came to ask about what my hobby should be. Madge is a lot better at reading people, she probably already knows what I should do. "Doesn't matter. I'll let you two, er, be."

Peeta grins, glancing down at Madge. "She's usually awake around 6," he tells me. "If you wanna come back. I'll be gone by then."

"Doesn't matter," I repeat. "I'll just stop by another time."

"She's doesn't sleep much at night," he tells me as I start toward the door. "I'm sure she'd love some company then." I nod, quickly exiting the house before he can tell me another tidbit about her life that I should already know.

As I march back to my house in the cool breeze of the early evening, my skin pricks. What makes Mellark so special that Madge'll talk to him and not me? Best friends? Why haven't I heard of him? It's like Madge didn't tell me squat about her life. And why does he get to know more about her than I do? Like how she doesn't sleep at night or she usually wakes up around six. I pull my fingers angrily through my hair and take a breath.

It's not like I can go home now. Rory won't ask questions about the Games but he'll sure as hell ask questions about why I'm back already. I've still got a few hours of light before it's dark out so I decide to walk toward the Seam. Out of all the places I'm not welcome, the Everdeen household isn't one of them.

* * *

Leave it to Katniss to not be home on the day I decide to spring by for a visit. Of course she's in the woods, where else would she be? The hike up past the fence feels unfamiliar, but one gust of wind and a breath of fresh air, I'm back in my element.

Though the woods should remind me of the arena, they don't. These are _my_ woods. _My_ sanction. It takes me a few minutes to find Katniss' trail but eventually it's spotted. After that it takes me a bit to actually _locate _her, sitting with her eyes shut as she rests against a tree.

Catnip, oh Katniss. She hasn't changed a bit. Her twisting braid still hangs over her shoulder, she still chews her lip as she thinks about something. I just watch her for a few moments, it's a rare opportunity to catch her completely at ease. I slip my hands into my back pockets and smile.

The only chance I've gotten to see Katniss was right when I stepped off the train. One quick hug and she was gone. A lot to talk about, she had said. She also called me Cuz. Which I later discovered was the façade she and Prim had to put on. They were my cousins while I was in the Games. Katniss was too pretty to be just a friend, the Capitol had decided. We were too close. It would've ruined mine and Madge's whole show.

Makes me wonder why the Mellark boy wasn't _Madge's_ cousin.

She sighs and shifts in her spot, eventually her eyes flutter open. Katniss immediately panics upon seeing me, her eyes widening in alert as she attempts to scoot back only to run into the tree she's against. Once her gray meets mine she freezes, and her eyes are instantly filled with tears.

"Gale," she chokes out, pressing herself to her feet quickly and running up to me. I open my arms and wrap her tightly against mine. "God, I never thought I'd see you out here again."

I laugh, pulling away and cupping her face. "Good to see you too, Catnip."

After a bit more of hugging and a few more tears on her part, we eventually sit back down against the tree she had been resting against. It's getting too dark to hunt, and I don't really have a reason to be hunting anyway. I guess I could help with Katniss but she'd get defensive over that very quickly, no doubt in my mind.

"So why're you out here?" she asks me. "Why tonight? Trouble in the kingdom?"

I roll my eyes, nudging her with my elbow. "Am I not allowed to visit?"

Katniss shrugs lightly, keeping her eyes on the ground as she picks at some grass. "You haven't before."

"I haven't had time," I say. It's a lie, I've had time, I just haven't known what to say. I still don't really know what to say. "Didn't want to get caught. Or you to get caught." That part is true, however.

With all the cameras around someone would be sure to follow me to the fence. How wonderful it would've been to catch a Victor that Snow already wants dead breaking the law.

"You sure it's not because of Madge?" I raise an eyebrow, turning to face her. As long as I've known Katniss she's not one to talk about relationships. In fact, I thought she'd avoid the topic altogether. "It's okay if it is."

"Catnip," I grunt. Katniss holds up her hands and a smile slips onto her face. She drops the grass that was in her palms and switches to pulling on her braid. "Have you seen her? Madge?"

Katniss shakes her head and reverts to pulling up grass. "No, I don't think she'd want to see me."

"Why not?"

Madge spoke of Katniss often enough for me to consider them friends. Katniss even visited Madge in the visiting room, I'm pretty sure. They were friends long before the Games. Before all of this, when I would go on rants about the Capitol and the Undersee name was brought into it, Katniss often defended her.

Again she shrugs lightly. "She might be jealous," she says seriously, although the obvious smirk on her face proves that she's teasing.

"Why would she be jealous of my cousin?" I jeer back. With that comment Katniss' smile fades. "Hey, I was joking." For the thousandth time Katniss shrugs, dropping her gaze away from me. No doubt it was offensive that they made Katniss my cousin, we're only friends. I mean sure, before the Games I guess I could've seen myself marrying her, but that was then and not now. I know that if Katniss were to have been in the Games they would've made my family her cousins as well, because that's how the Capitol works.

"It's getting late," she suddenly says, pushing herself to her feet. "I should get home before Prim starts to worry."

I stand after her, "Catnip," I say softly. She scratches the back of her neck and turns to face me. "I thought we had a lot to talk about?"

"Maybe some other time," she says. "You just got back, you need to sort out your priorities and," she trails off as I close the distance between us, lifting her chin so she'll face me.

"What's wrong?" She tears her chin from my grasp and continues to stare at the ground. "Katniss,"

"A lot's happened, Gale," she tells me. "And I just realized I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it or not." Her eyes flicker up to me for a moment but then she's looking away again. Almost as if she's scared to be around me. Just as I open my mouth to respond she answers the unasked question of _like what_. "Like how you're a Victor," she says. "Like the things you did in the arena." I narrow my eyes in her direction, Katniss should know better than to bring that up now. "Or maybe how you and Madge are suddenly in love, or did you forget?"

I furrow my brows, "Why can't you talk about that?"

She growls and throws her hands down. "It's just _weird_, Gale! You're different, I need time to adjust!"

Again I'm narrowing my eyes, "I'm not different, Katniss." The way she looks at me, the way my family looks at me. I know I am, but I'm not. I'm still… I'm still me. I'm still a hunter, still a survivor. The same friend, the same companion I used to be. "I did what I had to do to get home," I tell her.

"You stabbed yourself in the stomach," she nearly hisses. "Do you know what could've happened to me if there had been no Victor? My family, your family, Madge's family. District 12, even! Everyone could've died because of that!" After a pause and a drop of her voice she adds, "Still could."

I never thought about that, what the action would've done to my family. Of course the Capitol would've killed them. The thought sends me backwards, renders me frozen. Why hadn't I thought about what could've happened? What still could?

"Listen," she says before I can add anything to the conversation. "It's only Tuesday. I'll stop by on Friday, okay?" I jerk into a nod, wondering how our conversation went sour so quickly. The way her eyes cast in my direction lead me to believe that she won't stop by, or maybe she will but things won't be the same. As we start toward the fence she adds, "I haven't seen your house yet. Rory told Prim all of District 12 could fit inside." Her lips slowly curve into a smile, the Katniss smile I rarely receive unless we're in the woods. It's reassuring.

Before we're in sight of the fence I pull her into my arms one last time. She huffs at first but eventually Katniss' arms wrap back around me. She buries her face in my chest.

"I missed you, Catnip," I whisper. "Don't let me lose you."

To that she pulls away, glancing up at me one last moment before slipping towards the fence. I stay out a bit longer, wondering when things got this complicated. Eventually, before it gets too dark, I slip under the fence as well. I cast away the life I once had, the life of trades and survival and start back towards Victor Village, the new life I'll have to embrace. But then I realize I'm not quite ready to go back there yet.

* * *

_A/N: Of course it was Peeta! More on that in next chapter. I think it would be natural for Katniss to be really conflicted and confused around Gale. In Catching Fire she said if rolls were reversed and she had to watch Gale fall in love with a mystery girl then she'd be jealous. My Katniss tries to hide it by blaming it on other things, when really she's just confused. It's like she wants to talk about it but she doesn't know how. Welcome to book 2!_


	29. Chapter 29

My footsteps carry me to Thom's house. The whistle has blown, those in the mines are now off, and I haven't seen him since practically before I left. It's strange, taking the walk to his house. It used to be so familiar, now I feel like a stranger just trying to be the old me. It isn't very comforting.

Today just seems to be visit day, I need a reminder of the person I once was. I knock on his door, scraping my knuckles in the process, and listen to his family inside shuffle before the door opens.

"Who the hell is," Thom starts, but pauses when he sees me. "Hell, it's Gale," he cheers back to his parents. Thom throws his arms around me and squeezes tighter than he ever has. "Gale Hawthorne, you son of a bitch!"

"Hey," I laugh as he pulls me into the warmth of his humble abode. His family greets me brightly but they're too busy with their own activities to really pay attention to me. They could care less about the Victor of District 12. Thank God. "How ya been?"

He pulls me to sit down on the couch, I can't help but feel like at least here is still a home for me. "Worried sick, you bastard! With all the crap going on lately and not getting a chance to see you, sheesh." I laugh, lounging backwards on the cushions that will hurt my back if I stay for too long. He rests his hand on my arm. "Feeling okay?"

"Well enough," I murmur as he pulls his hand away. I don't want to talk about me, I want to hear about everything I missed. "How're the mines?"

I would've started in the mines the same day as Thom, we would've been in the same section too. It makes my stomach ache when I think too hard about it. He's my best friend, we've done everything together. First date on the same night, gone all through high school with each other. Now he's down there all by himself with no one but himself to talk to.

Okay, that's a lie. He's Thom. He can talk to anyone. But that isn't the point.

"Load of shit," Thom grunts. "I ache like you'd never believe. Bristel's good enough with backrubs but she gets annoyed with the coal. We're dating now, you know that?" I shake my head, amused that my two friends have finally realized they were supposed to be together. "Yeah, she's a saint, that one. Enough about me, how're you? Tell me about your life, Hawthorne. How's it been?"

"Different," I force out, which causes him to laugh. Thom's still covered in coal dust from his day at the mines, but his eyes are still bright and he's still so full of energy and life. "I have nothing to do anymore, feels like I'm useless."

"Aw, you've got plenty to do," Thom jeers. "You've got a big fancy house that you can redecorate until you go numb, and a whole crowd of people you can get to serve you neat meals." I roll my eyes and elbow him in the side. "You've got Undersee, too! Hell of a lot of things you two could get into," he waggles his eyebrows, which causes me to laugh. God, I wish. If she'd talk to me. My lack of response causes Thom to gaze around his hut, making sure his parents aren't listening. "You two okay?"

I shrug, "Couldn't tell ya."

Thom lifts his shoulders as if he had been expecting that. "Not surprising. You've both been through hell. Can't really expect it to be all flowers and sunshine, now can ya?" There's a pause as I study his floorboards. There are a few loose ones in the center of the room and that's why they squeak whenever someone walks over them. A few more weeks and the one over by the door's bound to collapse in. "Gale," he nudges me with his elbow. "Talk to me, man. We're best friends."

To that I lift my gaze and smile. He said it. He said that we're best friends. We _are_ best friends. Not we _were_, but we _are_.

"She, uh," I pause, trying to wipe the grin from my face. He still sees us as best friends, thank you God! At least not everyone's looking at me like I'm a killer! Thinking about Madge however makes the celebration short. "She won't really talk to me. Thinks I don't actually love her."

He raises an eyebrow, confused as to why I was smiling. "Well do you?"

"Hell, of course I do," I grumble. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't."

"I don't know," Thom shrugs, lounging backwards on the couch. "I think you just happen to fall in love with whoever you aren't allowed to have. Anyone who's a challenge, Gale." Now it's my turn to raise an eyebrow. I move my hand and motion for him to continue. "Well, like back at school you'd go after the girls who didn't want to be with you because they were a challenge. Same reason you liked Katniss, because she never wanted to get married. In the Games, you weren't supposed to like Undersee. She's from town, she was another tribute, it's just a compilation of all the things you aren't supposed to do. So you do it, naturally, and, well, I don't know." He pauses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Man, you're my best friend. If you say you love her then you love her, no questions to it."

"But do you think I do?"

Thom waits a moment, furrowing his brow and letting his eyes drift shut as if he's in deep thought. "Yeah," he finally says, his eyes snapping open to reveal the bright gray glow. "I do. The thing is, are you going to _keep_ loving her?"

"Course I am," I mumble.

"Then there's no problem," Thom grins. His mother clears his throat, motioning to the plates she's laid out at the table. "Oh. You stayin' for dinner?" I scrunch my nose, my mom's probably wondering where I am. "Then get the hell out," Thom laughs, shoving me to my feet and pushing me toward the door. Once I'm on his porch he hugs me once more. "God, I'm glad you're back, Gale. I was rootin' for you the whole time."

"You don't think I'm different?"

Thom pulls away with a smirk. "Course you're different. Doesn't matter much to me. You're still my best friend." I nod once, allowing a smile to return to my face. "Stop by more often, yeah? Maybe I can come over and see your mansion some day."

I laugh, "Doors always open for you."

"Yeah, well right now mine's closing." I laugh as he leans backwards into his house. "See ya later, Gale."

I make my way home in silence, glad that I ended such an awkward day on a good note. Thom still thinks of me as his best friend. Maybe Katniss is bugging out and Madge doesn't believe me, but at least I've still got Thom. It's the biggest relief ever, I feel like I can breathe again.

Finally I get home. My mother's waiting for me with her arms crossed and her eyebrows knitted in worry. The kids are all at the table eating but of course, my mother is by the door.

"Goodness, Gale," she pulls me into her arms. "I was worried sick! Rory told me you went over to Madge's house and when I sent him to get you, you weren't there!"

"Ma," I laugh as her arms drop. "I went to see Katniss and Thom." Her hand cups my cheek and she frowns. "I'm fine, Mom." It amazes me that I can survive the Hunger Games and she still worries about me being in danger. "Calm down."

"Forgive me if I panicked upon not knowing where you were," she huffs. "You're late for dinner. Go wash up." I roll my eyes, quickly escaping up the stairs to ready myself for the night.

* * *

The next day I decide to visit Madge when Mellark's supposed to be in school. That way he won't be able to be there. Because he'll be in school. Hopefully.

Posy and my mother went over to Haymitch's, to once again, clean the house. I'm sure Haymitch is thrilled. I'm anxiously awaiting the day he shows up at my door and begs me to make them stop. Should be fun.

I make it to Madge's house quickly, not wanting to deal with the wind outside. I close my eyes and pray she's alone. I just wanna talk to her, that's all. Visit, stop by, make sure she's okay.

I pause, listening to the bit of movement inside before the door opens. Madge looks tired, I'm shocked compared to what I saw yesterday. She's got bags under her eyes; her hair is messily strewn about her face. She attempted to put it up in some sort of bun but it's falling out. Madge has on these plaid fleece pajama pants and some oversized long sleeved white shirt. She crosses her arms across her chest when she sees me, but at least she smiles.

"Hey, come in," she says, stepping out of the way so I can enter. Her voice is scratchy. The willingness to let me into her house confuses me, but I join her nonetheless. I've learned to not question things when they work in my favor. "I was just going to make lunch. You hungry?" I nod, watching as she shuts the door before I follow her into the kitchen. She looks so tiny, so small compared to the vast openness of her house.

I slide into one of the stools at the counter as she heads for the cabinets. Everything in her house is so orderly. My mother made sure to make _our_ house as homey as possible. There are pictures and candles and books on the table. She wants anyone and everyone to feel welcome.

But Madge's house is different. Like it was just unwrapped, and that's all that's ever going to happen. It will be unwrapped and unused. "You live here alone?"

"Yeah," she replies with a shrug. Madge pulls out a loaf of bread, then rifles around for two jars that she has stored.

"Doesn't it get… lonely?"

"No," she shrugs again. "I like the quiet." Madge takes out two plates and then moves the loave of bread onto one of them. "Have you ever had a pb and j?"

I laugh, leaning forward on my elbows. "A what?" Madge lifts her gaze and a crooked smile slips on her face. She looks so in her element, so peaceful doing something so simple.

"A pbj. Peanut butter and jam," she huffs as if it's the most unbelievable thing, that I haven't heard of a _pbj_.

Madge digs through her drawers until she finds knife that she'll use to spread what I'm guessing is to be the peanut butter and jam. Her fingers slip around the handle of it and her eyebrows knit. Madge studies the blade, her eyes tracing every bump with such precision. Just as I'm about to ask if she'd rather me do it, she returns to the bread and then she slowly cuts it into four slices. Two for me, two for her.

I let out a deep breath. "No," I answer simply. "I haven't had one." Nor have I heard of one.

"Well you're about to," she responds. I love how we can ease into this despite her not wanting to talk to me just a few days ago. "Peeta and I used to eat them all the time when were little," she continues. I scrunch my nose at his name but she doesn't seem to notice. "I'd bring the peanut butter and jam in these little jars and he'd bring the bread, obviously." Madge spreads the peanut butter over two of the slices, her eyes stay focused on her work. "He even made this bread."

"That's nice," I murmur. Of course he did.

"He um," she wipes the excess peanut butter on the rim of the jar and then switches to the jam. I grin when I realize it's strawberry. "He told me you stopped by yesterday." I nod and again she lifts her eyes, only to drop them again, back to our meal. "Why?"

"Why did I stop by?" She nods. "Because I think we can at least be friends, Madge," I sigh. If she's not going to let me love her, at least not yet, then we've got to start somewhere. "Why'd you let me in if just a few weeks ago you decided you didn't want to talk to me?"

Her cheeks flare up. "Because I wanted to talk to you," she says softly. I laugh again, overwhelmed by her small amount of flirting. Good to know not all of the quiet mayor's daughter is gone. Her smile brightens, it's good to see a natural one back on her again. She slides the plate in my direction and then walks over, taking the stool next to me. "Friends is good," she says. Madge takes a bite of her sandwich and sighs, licking her lips before hopping off the stool again. "Needs milk."

I stare down at my sandwich, confused at the peanut butter. We could never afford peanut butter, but that doesn't mean I haven't heard of it. It's sticky and I'm told that it always gets stuck on the roof of your mouth. Combined with jam? Seems like an unlikely combination.

"Eat it," she smirks, sliding a glass of cold milk in my direction when she realizes I haven't taken a bite yet. "It's good, I promise."

Eventually I force the sandwich down, surprised at how good the jam and peanut butter taste together, and down my glass of milk. She's right, it's good.

"Madge," I say as she wipes her mouth. She lowers her napkin and looks up, meeting my eyes if only for a moment. I reach out before I can stop myself, my fingers dancing across the curve of her cheek only lightly. She freezes at my touch, chewing on her lip as though she's nervous. After a pause a lot longer than intended I finally force out, "Thanks for lunch."

* * *

I ask Madge to play the piano for me and she does. It's the most peaceful, beauteous thing I've ever experienced. I join her on the bench and snake my arm around her waist. She giggles, and it feels as though we haven't been apart. Every once in awhile she's nuzzle into my side, it causes my stomach to flip, but once she realizes what she's doing she returns to the piano.

"Wish I could play," I mumble as she taps out a tune. "Any instrument, for that matter."

"I could teach you," she suggests lightly, continuing to play some impossible melody. "I know a bit of the guitar too, if a piano is too girly for you."

I laugh, pressing a few keys which mess up her song. She scrunches her nose at me and swats my hand away. "I just need something to do so Effie will stop calling me," I tell her. "It's not like I can set snares."

"Well you're good with your hands," Madge shrugs, eventually leaning backwards on the bench and pushing my hand back to me instead of wrapped around her. "Maybe invent something?" I shake my head and she sighs, furrowing her brows together in concentration. I chomp down on the inside of my cheek to keep from leaning into her and smothering her with kisses. "Oh, I know, follow me."

Madge hops off the bench and starts toward the stairs, bounding up them as quick as she can. She's still in her pajamas and it makes me chuckle, the way her pants are too long they drag behind her, she almost slips on the hem. I bound after her taking two at a time, eager to catch up.

Once we reach the top floor she digs through a few boxes, all still packed. As she goes through one box I wander down the hallways. One of the beds is messily made, I'm guessing it's the room she sleeps in. Every other room, every other bed, empty.

"Madge," I call. I stride back into the room she's in and find her still digging through boxes. "You should come over more. If you're not getting enough sleep then,"

"I'm getting plenty sleep," she murmurs. She's a liar, and just as I go to call her out on it she changes the subject. "Aha! Found it," she pulls out a camera, it looks brand new. "I tried photography a bit when my piano was being fixed," she tells me. "Wasn't very good. You might be, though." I frown, looking at the contraption I'm even lucky to get a glimpse of. Especially in this District when photos are reserved for family pictures only. Unless you have money. The doorbell rings and Madge thrusts the camera into my hands. "I'll get it," she says. "You stay _here_," Madge stresses the last word but I barely notice.

I gently slide pass the camera between both of my hands listening to her footsteps pounding down the stairs to answer the door. Photography? Why does she think I'd be good at photography? She said I'd be good with my hands, not with a damn camera. I lift the camera up and peer through the view finder, scanning the empty room around me. My finger hovers over the button but I don't press it. Feels easy enough. I could try it. Appease Effie for a bit, anyway.

Voices carry up through the hall and curiosity gets the best of me.

"No, I'm alone," Madge's voice is strong. I stop at the end of the hall, knowing she meant for me to hear it. "And I will be once again when you leave," she snaps. It shocks me to hear such malice in her voice. To know that she isn't just the piano playing giggly girl who still blushes when she talks to me, but also the cold girl who's changed through the course of the Games.

"You have no right to talk to me like that," a male voice growls back. It rings with familiarity. It takes all I have not to race down the stairs and see what's going on. If she made a point to say she was alone, however, I know better than to intervene. "I'm the mayor of this District. I'm your _father_, Margaret."

"Father?" Madge squeaks. "Mayor of the District? You're a drunk!"

"You're a tramp," he barks back. "You're a _murderer_."

"Get out," she hisses. "Get out and never come back. This is _my _house and you aren't welcome here!" A smack echoes through the house and I nearly drop the camera, filled with immense confusion as to the situation. I wish I could peer over the side, just catch a quick glimpse of what's going on downstairs. "You ever touch me again and I'll kill you," Madge tells him. And then the door opens and shuts. And then there's silence.

And then I'm pounding down to find her, camera forgotten, locating a deflated Madge on the bottom step with her head in her hands.

And she's crying. I pull her face into my hands but she won't meet my eyes, and then I realize that she has a pink cheek. Not a pink hand.

* * *

_A/N: Hello! I just started my senior year of high school and I am swamped. Expect less updates, but always look for them! I will not abandon a fic! Trying hard to get updates out as fast as possible but still make them of quality. Also, in every fic I ever write, Bristel is female. Like she should be. Xoxo_


	30. Chapter 30

"Don't," Madge murmurs instantly and pulls her chin from my grip once she realizes I've discovered the problem. She pulls her knees up and buries her face away from me. "Drop it." How does she expect me to do that? I'm on my feet in seconds, racing for the man that just exited. "Gale," she's too quick, pulling me back. "Please."

"He _hit_ you," I growl, not shaking her grip from my shirt but desperately wanting to. "Madge, how does…" I can't even think properly. "Since when—" How does one resort to hitting their child? "I'm gonna," I can't get the right words out.

The mayor is an abusive father. The mayor is not who I always thought he was. From the small interaction I had had with him I always thought he was friendly. He knew about the Hob, about me and Katniss crossing the fence, and he let it slide. Maybe it was because he was lazy. But even then who would have assumed him to hit his child?

An immense burning engulfs me as I study the sadness to her eyes. I've never understood what compelled parents to hit their children for no reason whatsoever. When I was younger I'd get whooped if I spoke out of line or broke the rules, but I always deserved it. Plus it was always with the hand, never anything else. And my parents hated doing it! Who _wants_ to hit their kid?

"Gale," she says again. Her voice is on the edge of desperation.

It hits me like a brick, the realization of how long this has been happening. "You said you were good at dodging objects and hiding," I grunt. "On the train." She nods and slowly her fingers uncurl from the fabric of my shirt. "And you said you were good at taking care of drunks." Again, Madge nods, slowly lowering herself back to the stairs. "And you had a bruise on your arm."

She shrugs, "Probably." I lock my jaw and she fiddles with her fingers. "Being the mayor is stressful," she says softly. "Stress leads to drinking. When he drinks he…" she frowns and chews her bottom lip. "He gets angry."

"That's a shit excuse," I snap at her. Madge lifts her gaze and her eyes widen instantly. "Madge," I cross the room and lower myself again to her side. "Report it! Do something about it!"

"I'm trying," she whispers, though her eyes are still wide from my comment. "I'm trying to make him scared of me so he'll never talk to me again." Hence the comment about killing him. "He's done it ever since I was little, Gale, it's just something I'm used to."

"That is nothing _anyone_ should get used to," I growl, grabbing both of her cheeks and resting my forehead against hers. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What's there to tell?" she chokes. I bring my face closer until our noses touch, until I feel her ragged breath against my lips. "I deserved it." My throat drops into my stomach and my heart presses against my lungs, my head jerks into a no. "Yes I did, why else would he have done it?"

"You don't believe that," I mutter, dropping my hands and pulling away sharply. "If you believed that then you really would've given up in the Games instead of fighting. In the training center when I said to think of someone you hate, it was him, wasn't it?" I don't wait for an answer, standing up and pacing the corridor in front of her. "You _know_ you didn't deserve it! It's why you were so angry! It's why—" I stop talking when I realize what I'm about to say, but she figures it out.

She snaps her eyes up and they lock on mine. "Say it," she demands. "Finish the sentence."

"I didn't—"

"You were going to say it's why it was so easy for me to kill, weren't you?" It gets harder to swallow as she stands, marching over to me. "Weren't you!" She shoves my chest and then takes a few steps away, her bright blue eyes brimming with tears. "I don't know anything anymore," she chokes, taking another step forward and shoving me backwards another foot. And I let her. Because it's what I was going to say.

She runs her fingers through her hair and pulls angrily, letting it fall out of the sloppy bun she had tied it in earlier, and collapses back on the bottom stair with a whimper of frustration. Her skin is pale, her eyes are empty. Madge scans the floor tiles in front of her rapidly as though she's processing something but I know there's no way I'll ever be able to figure out the depths of her mind if she doesn't tell me.

I take slow steps toward her, waiting for her eyes to lift and find mine, but they don't. They scan the floor as though she's searching for something she'll never locate. Her palms reach up and press on her eyes, blotchy pink cheeks are revealed when she drops her hands. And once again, Madge Undersee is falling apart.

"I don't know _anything_ anymore," she repeats through a scratched voice. "It's like there are ten thousand different conflicting thoughts in my head and none of them make sense." Eventually I'm sitting back on the stairs next to her, reaching for Madge's hand whether she wants me to or not. Thankfully her fingers lace with mine but there's little squeeze in her grip. Madge drops her forehead to my arm. "Am I a killer or a survivor?"

"Survivor," I respond gently. But survivors can also be killers.

"Pathetic or confused?"

"Confused."

"Broken or whole?"

I wait a moment.

"Broken."

How can she not be? When she was little her father would hit her and she'd think it was _her_ fault. Her mother was bedridden and couldn't come to save her. She didn't trust anyone except Katniss and Mellark. She's killed and _admitted_ to enjoying it. Was it because her father hit her or because she's sadistic? Because she felt like she was getting revenge? Finally putting herself back together? Only to come home and realize nothing's changed. She's killed and gotten her revenge only he's the same person, and she still thinks it's her fault.

"You should go home," she murmurs, slacking my hand until I pull my fingers away. "I can't… I'm not good at talking anymore."

"You're plenty good at talking," I respond, desperate to bring her face into my hands again. "If you _talk_." Once she gets started Madge is able to admit anything. "Madge, I know it's hard," I start delicately. "I did it too, in the arena." The killing. The two girls that scream in my head as I sleep.

"You did it to survive," she hisses. "When you were attacked. I did it… I did it for,"

"Revenge," I suggest.

"But that's the thing," Madge shakes her head, strands of her golden hair toppling in all directions. "I did exactly what they wanted. I gave them the Victor everyone in the Capitol wants to have. Someone who will chase down their victims and attack unprovoked. Someone who won't hesitate when it's a friend you have to kill." She lets out a shaky breath. "Like I said before, I don't know anything anymore. I don't know if I should pity or hate myself, if I should be proud I'm still alive. I don't know if other people pity or hate me or they're proud I got them a winner. I don't know why you're not afraid to be in the same room as me. I don't know why Katniss never said goodbye before I left. I don't know why I can't sleep at night, or why I stand in the bathroom and wash my hands for hours to try and get off the blood that's no longer there. I don't—"

I hold my hand up, "Wait." Not only do I want to avoid more reasons for my stomach to clench, but she… "Katniss didn't say goodbye?"

Madge narrows her eyes, "No. Why would she?"

"I thought—I thought you were friends. You said one other person visited you besides your dad, you…"

"Peeta," Madge responds softly. "Katniss didn't say goodbye. Or hello, when I got back. Or anything to me anymore." A burning fills my stomach and I have to force myself to ignore it. "I mean I thought we were friends too," she continues. "Even when we got back I thought she'd be happy to see me at least, even though she didn't come. I mean she's Katniss, she isn't good with words. I figured she didn't know what to say to me so I didn't hold it over her."

"That's not an excuse," I mutter.

Even I was going to visit Madge if my name hadn't been called. I was going to go and apologize and force myself to do something that would've been followed with days of suffering at the thought of being an asshole all of those years. Katniss could have at least said she was rooting for her. Something. Anything! After all those times she defended her against _anyone_ who said a negative word on Madge Undersee you'd expect there to be a bit of friendship.

"She was busy with you," Madge says dismissively. "Overwhelmed."

I spread my fingers and raise them in the air, releasing a grunt of frustration. "And this thing about you washing your hands?" Madge instantly drops her gaze. She was probably hoping I hadn't heard that. "Come to my house," I plead. "You'll be able to sleep and I'll be there. My family really wants you around more; Posy's dying to meet you."

"Gale," she sighs and rubs her forehead. "I don't think that's best."

"Then what's best?" I growl. "You staying here up at all hours of the night constantly blaming yourself for things you shouldn't? You letting yourself go mad? You locking yourself away in the bathroom instead of facing your problems?"

"That's not fair," she says. "I don't think it's best for me to stay at your house for reasons other than that. Cinna ordered me some sleeping pills so I'll be able to sleep at night. With time I'll be able to overcome—"

"Just come and stay," I nearly demand. It rings out more like a plea. She knows I don't want to yell at her, force her to do something she doesn't want to do, but if I have to then I will. I don't want her using sleeping pills. I don't want her locking herself away. "We can work through it together, Madge."

She ponders this for a moment, her golden eyebrows knitting together as she studies the sincerity of my face. Eventually, however, she lets out a deep breath. "Have to start slow," she murmurs. "Maybe… maybe dinner."

And eventually, Madge Undersee agrees to start taking _steps_ instead of standing still.

* * *

Though Madge agreed to dinner it wasn't for a few days. She told me she had prior arrangement and would be eating with the Mellark's. Which pissed me off, but as long as she's eating I'll survive. I watch out my window until I see her pass and head toward town, enough to verify that she's going to eat at her friend's house.

Tonight happens to be the night Katniss and Prim are coming over to eat. My mom invited Mrs. Everdeen as well but she refused. Katniss almost refused too but Prim eventually convinced her. I'm sure it has something to do with the way Rory and her look at each other, but I won't mention it.

We all sit around the table, awkwardly glancing toward one another as the sound of forks and knives hitting our new fancy plates ring through the house. Prim doesn't seem to mind but it looks as though Katniss is cringing while she holds the silverware too expensive for anyone in the Seam to afford. Including myself before this happened.

"So," my mom starts, oblivious to the tension in the room. "Madge was busy?"

Katniss diverts her eyes back to her plate, and I shift in my seat. "She's eating with one of her friends." I glance in Katniss' direction but she keeps her eyes downcast, trying to look busy. Preoccupied. "Peeta Mellark. Heard of him?"

My mother nods, "Yes. We were often interviewed at the same time. He's a nice boy."

The thought of my mother knowing Peeta Mellark makes my insides churn. Why haven't I heard of him before? Nice boy, nice boy. Why is he so damn nice? Good with words, too, is what I've discovered. Doesn't have any confidence issues. Could be a problem.

"Oh," Prim wipes her mouth with her napkin gently. "We know Peeta, right Katniss?" Katniss glances toward her sister and narrows her eyes, shaking her head in a slight no. "He stops by all the time," Prim continues brightly. "And he sits with you at lunch now. That's what you told me!"

"Prim," Katniss growls. Oh sweet God.

"I think he likes her," Prim continues with a smirk. I nearly choke on the drink I'm swallowing and Rory chuckles on the other side of the table. "Ever since the Games they've spent a lot of time together. Right, Katniss?"

Katniss swallows the bite she just took and lifts her eyes, meeting mine. "Sure, Prim."

I can't wipe the smirk from my face as the rest of dinner remains quiet. My mother's finally noticed the tension, though it's of a different kind now. My eyes drift from Katniss to Prim to Rory and I have to force back every bit of laughter that threatens to spill from me.

Once the meal is finished and we've carried all the plates to the sink for my mother and Posy to wash, Katniss stalks out to the back porch while Prim and Rory race upstairs to work on a school 'project'. I follow Katniss after making sure my mom's okay with cleaning up; I find Katniss leaning out on the porch and gazing up at the sky.

"Stars aren't as bright here," she tells me as I come out.

I frown, "It's because of the power." But she already knew that. I'm not in the mood for her to scold me about my winnings and the things that come with it so I change the subject quickly. "Thought you didn't plan on getting married," I jeer lightly, mimicking her stance across the wooden posts.

"You're not funny," she shoves my arm, sending me back a few inches. I finally let out a laugh and she growls.

"Aw, sounds pretty serious to me Catnip. Sitting together at lunch?" I let out a long low whistle and she growls again, hitting my arm with such a force I choke in laughter again. "Hey, I think it's great!"

"It's not like that," she grumbles, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. "With you and Madge gone he just… he just sat at my table one day."

I almost go to snap at her about the excuse of Madge being gone considering she hasn't been friendly to Madge as of late, but I'm too interested about Katniss' new relationship with Peeta Mellark. This is just so happening to work very well in my favor.

"Oh, and you just let him? Yes, very believable." Katniss rolls her eyes, leaning farther over the porch railing. "Aw, Catnip! Talk to me!"

She wrinkles her nose. "He saved my life when we were little," she mumbles. "Alright?" I squint at her, urging her to continue. I've never heard this story. "It was before I ever went under the fence by myself. We didn't have any food, any money. We were starving. It was raining; I ended up in his backyard just sitting against a tree waiting to die."

"Katniss—"

"He threw me bread," she shrugs lightly. I know there's more to it but I won't press. "It helped me work up the courage to cross the fence by myself. I've always owed him, never said anything because I hate owing people." Me and her both. "He's just good to have around," Katniss sighs, "alright? That's all."

"Hey," I nudge her with my elbow. "If it's more than that I don't care." She frowns, fiddling with the tip of her braid. "Nothing wrong with being happy, Katniss." And honestly, I think it'd be good if Katniss found a guy. She's always so angry, she always closes herself off. Besides, if Mellark likes Katniss then I don't have to worry about him and Madge. Which is selfish, but true.

"He's just," she lets out a deep breath. "Maybe if things were different."

"What do you mean different?"

"If you and Madge hadn't won," she murmurs. "Or there weren't Games and the Capitol to worry about."

I turn to face her, "If Madge and I hadn't won?" Again she shrugs. "Katniss," I nudge her lightly. "Do you mean if I had come home alone?"

"I'm just being stupid," she says. "It's getting late. I should get home." I grab her wrist and pull her back to me. "Gale," her eyes lock with mine.

"You said we'd talk."

"I don't know what you want to talk about," she snatches her wrist back. Gray collides with gray as her eyes narrow. "Maybe we should talk about how you hated Madge before the Games and now you're in love with her."

I'm stunned at the sharp tone of her words. "Maybe we should talk about how you didn't visit her before you left," I snap back.

"_Maybe_ we should talk about how we've known each other for _years_ and you chose _her_—" she stops and drops her gaze.

There's a pause as the words linger in the air. Katniss wraps her arms around herself and makes no attempt to go back inside.

"Yes," I nod, "maybe we should talk about that." Her fingers lock in front of her and she lifts her gaze. "Are you jealous?"

"No."

"Then why—"

She throws her hands in the air, "I'm just confused!" Katniss paces the small expanse of the porch but I make sure to block her entry back into the house. "I thought… I didn't… I mean everyone kept saying sorry to me when you went in the Games. They apologized and for awhile I thought it was because we were best friends but then people started saying that you were in love with me." Her eyebrows furrow and she stops pacing. "Were you?"

"Might've been."

"That isn't an answer."

"I always thought we'd get married," I sigh, dragging my hand through my hair. "Whether I said it out loud or not, I just sort of assumed."

"So then I started thinking," Katniss eventually continues, "that it had to have been true. And then I thought maybe I loved you too, but then you were there and in love with Madge. And then Peeta was here keeping me company and I'm suddenly your cousin and," she resumes pacing, "I don't know, Gale! I don't!"

"You know I love you," I say, pulling her to me once again. "I always have, I always will. Just not like that, Katniss. Not anymore."

She tightens her grip around me and buries her face into my chest. "What changed?"

"I did." She pulls back so she can see my face but still keeps her arms wrapped around me. "You're my best friend, Catnip. Don't do this." Four years of friendship and she finally decides to act like a girl. "Maybe if I had done something sooner instead of slowly warming you up to the idea things could've been different."

Her grip eventually slacks from me and she folds her hands behind her back. "Do you really love her?" I nod and her lips twitch into a smile. "You never were a good actor," she tells me. "I should've known."

I laugh as my smile grows. "Now can we move past this? And be best friends again?" Again she's suffocating me in a hug tighter than we've shared before. "I don't wanna lose you."

"Good," she mumbles against me. "Because I don't wanna lose you either. Once was enough."

Again I laugh as she squeezes tighter. "Now tell me more about Mellark, would you?"

* * *

_A/N: Peeta got some courage! Yeehaaaa. And Katniss/Gale talk. And Madge/Gale. And Madge/Katniss conversation probably next chapter. Sorry for not updating as much, I'm like, really uninspired for some reason and just overwhelmed with life. Merp. Give predictions as to what you think will happen next, they always inspire me some! They also make me laugh c: Thanks for sticking around._


	31. Chapter 31

Madge comes over while everyone is at school. My mom went into town to get a few things so I'm on babysitter duty, leaving me home alone with Posy. It's the perfect time for Madge to stop by, so I can slowly ease her into my family instead of just a full on force. Her knock on the door is barely heard, as if she doesn't quite actually want to come, but of course Posy is anxiously awaiting her arrival and instantly alerts me that she's here.

"There's a knock!" Posy screams, racing toward me and flailing her arms. "I heard a knock, Gale! Really, this time!"

Though the past three alerts Posy has given me were false alarms, I do what my baby sister asks. She bounces on her toes, tangled dark brown hair sticking up in every direction. She looks like it's Christmas day and a whole boat load of presents are on the other side of our door.

I shoo Posy away from the door and quickly she runs back into the living room. She still peeks, her gray eyes wide and eager.

Peeling open the door leaves me dumbfounded. Madge's pale skin enhances the darkened bags under her eyes, she's never looked more tired in her life. I'm almost compelled to ask her why she won't sleep, can't sleep if the danger is gone, but the answer isn't in that. The answer is in the nightmares that come with sleep. The screams, the remembrance of blood and sweat. Those dark days in the arena.

"Hey," I breathe.

Her lips quirk, "Hey." I usher her inside and Posy nearly squeals, rushing at her full speed with a victory cry.

Posy runs up and squeezes her leg tightly. "You are real!" she says, her voice astonished as she stares wide eyed at the blonde. "You are! You are!"

Madge almost laughs, "So are you!" I pull the door shut and rest against it, watching Madge interact with my little sister. Posy's approval is really the only approval I need, though I'm sure everyone will like her. Madge scrunches down to be eye level with her. "You must be Posy," she says, tapping her nose. "I've heard a lot about you."

Posy giggles, "I am Posy. You're Madge."

"I am," the blonde nods.

"I know it's you because you look like an angel like Vick said so. My brother loves you," Posy giggles again. "Not Vick. Gale. Isn't that silly?"

The smallest smile slips onto Madge's face. "Yes, it is silly." Her eyebrows furrow as she looks in my direction once, almost painfully. Madge still doesn't think I love her, and I'm still working on how to prove it to her. Words clearly aren't my forte.

The two hit it off immediately. I constantly have to remind Posy that Madge doesn't always like to play games but Madge insists that it's okay. "I've always wanted a sibling," Madge tells me. I've got three, she can have them if she'd like. Hopefully one day she will.

I sit on the couch and watch with amusement as they play with dolls and as Posy tangles her messy hands through Madge's golden hair. "Hair, hair, hair," Posy sings. "You have pretty hair." There are a few times in which I swear Madge laughs, but I can never tell. I pray she is.

Eventually I can see the exhaustion stretching onto Madge's face and though she doesn't openly protest I know it's time to step in.

I make Posy take a seat on the chair across from the couch and Madge hesitantly settles down next to me. Posy almost begs Madge to sit with her but I make a face and she instantly drops it. "I don't want story time," Posy protests with a yawn. "I'm not tired." But she's still little, and she still needs naps or she'll get cranky. So story time it is. A good break for us all.

I don't know the one she picks out, a story about a girl named Rapunzel who had long golden hair. She lived in a tower far, far away from everyone, and was placed there by an evil witch. Rapunzel would brush her hair over and over again so she had something to do, and she would sing songs because she had a beautiful voice. The witch kept her there because her parents were thieves, because her parents stole from the witch many years ago. Sometime long before the prince even shows up to save the day, Posy falls asleep. I go to close the book but Madge grabs my hand, causing me to look down at her.

"Keep reading," she quietly pleads. Her eyelids are drooping, her words are slow. "Please."

I smile, returning to the story I hold in my hands. Eventually the prince takes the scene, climbing up her golden hair to rescue Rapunzel from the boring routine of her everyday life and they fall in love. Madge slides closer to me until I wrap my arm around her waist. She sighs; her head goes to rest on my lap.

Madge's out before the witch even finds out about the prince, her body curled up next to mine. Take that, Peeta Mellark! I close the princess book for good, my eyes cast where Posy has curled up ever so cutely. My fingers drag through Madge's hair, the soft curls send a feeling of peace over me. I could spend forever like this, Madge curled up to my side. I would risk an evil witch for her. Heck, I practically already have.

Maybe it wouldn't be Posy across the room but someone else. A daughter. My daughter. Our daughter.

Just as sleep threatens to overtake me as well, a feeling I don't normally get in the middle of the day, a slight knock echoes through the room. I call out, telling the person to enter. Madge shifts in her sleep and tightens her grip on me.

The person at the door strides into the room, a content smile on their face as they see me. I'm instantly snapped awake, trying to register the fact that damn Peeta Mellark is in my house.

"Well _how_ the tables have turned," I smirk, narrowing my eyes at him. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, I guess.

He laughs running his hand through his sandy hair, "I went to her house and no one answered. Just worried, that's all. Glad she's here." I nod once, his eyes casting down to watch Madge sleep. "Mind if I sit?" I shrug in response, watching him back up to the chair Posy sleeps soundly on.

"Just not there," I point to the chair, my lips tugging upward. Mellark raises an eyebrow, turning around and laughing at my sister who he almost sat on. After studying Posy for a moment he eventually decides on a different chair, situating himself comfortably.

"I haven't been able to come visit her as often as I'd like," he tells, his eyes dancing over Madge's features. I have to remind myself that they're only friends. They're only friends. He can look at her all he'd like but she's cuddled up next to _me_, not _him_. "Things keep coming up."

"Mmm," I nod, "Like Katniss?" His eyes widen, his cheeks instantly redden. Yes, perfect diversion. Katniss won't tell me much, nor do I expect her too. Chances of her in a serious relationship are slim. "She's my best friend, Mellark," I note. His cheeks continue to darken, his hand stretches up to rub the nape of his neck. "Would you like to explain yourself before I start making assumptions?" Because I've made assumptions. And I will make more. Trust me. Serious relationship or _not_, the girl's _gotta_ get lonely.

"Err—" Mellark drops his gaze but a funny smiles takes his face. "I knew you before the Games, Gale," he says. "And I was overly intimidated by you."

I can't help but smirk. "That so?"

"Yeah," Peeta reddens again. "I thought you and Katniss were together." It gets increasingly harder not to laugh. "But during the Games when you and Madge were all lovey-dovey I realized you weren't, and Katniss had the lunch table to herself and wouldn't talk to anyone, and," finally I let a chuckle escape me so his awkward rambling will stop. "I've liked her since I was a kid," he admits shamefully, though it's nothing to be ashamed of. "Sort of like Madge with you."

"Madge with me?" I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Peeta laughs, his face easing back into its normal shade. "She's liked you ever since you first sold her strawberries, Gale." I drop my gaze down to Madge, her soft skin and button nose. I still don't understand. Understand how she could've liked _me_ out of everyone. Madge Undersee isn't ugly, half the District is taken with her. "Didn't she tell you that?" I jerk my head into a no. "Ask her about it." I frown, suddenly realizing how well he managed to change the subject. "She doesn't think you love her."

"I know," I grumble, still annoyed that I'm the topic of conversation instead of him and Catnip. Peeta Mellark is a master of manipulation.

"Do you?"

My frown deepens. "Yes."

A gentle smile brightens his features. "Thought so." Mellark scans her again. "She's stubborn, that one. Almost as stubborn as you." His eyes cast to the book next to me. "Oh, so you're reading Rapunzel?"

"Get out of my house," I groan. Now it's his turn to smirk, he tips his head once in my direction and ushers himself out the door, his footsteps nearly silent as he exits.

I guess he's not half bad.

Eventually everyone returns home. Rory and Vick, my mother. Posy wakes up. I all motion for them to keep quiet and they nod. They must have some sort of understanding for how valuable sleep is. I bet Mom said something. Rory winks at me as he passes through the room, Vick stares at the girl on my lap. My mother just smiles. Smiles so contently for the first time I've seen since I've been home. They say moms know that sort of thing, when you're really in love. Maybe she knows.

How my darling mother manages to keep my entire family busy, I'm not sure. Maybe they all know this is what I need, just time with Madge even though we aren't talking. She recruits them all to help with dinner leaving the living room silent. Every once in awhile I'll hear them laugh, or the banging of a pot that carries over from the kitchen, but it's mostly silent.

Even though I can't see my family, just hearing their bursts of happiness makes me smile. Knowing that we're all still okay. That they're still alright. Mostly unscarred, unscathed. It's reassuring. Maybe I can be like that again too.

Before dinner's finished the smell carries over, causing me to sigh. I guess my body shifts because Madge suddenly shivers, and then moments later her eyes snap open, wide and alert. She instantly lets out a short cry, gasping for air and searching around the room frantically for something she can't find. Her hands claw into me and I sit up straight, taking a moment to register what's happening.

"Madge," I grab her face and force her to look at me before she panics too much. "You're safe."

"I'm—"

"You're safe," I repeat. "You're right here, and so am I." Her chin quivers as she locks eyes with me, another cry curls up her throat as Madge throws her arms around my neck. "Hey," I whisper as my arms link around her back. "It's okay." She cries into my chest, her body wracking with sobs as I smooth down her hair. "Everything's okay."

"I'm sorry," she whimpers. "I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_." I lower my chin to her shoulder. "It's my fault, all my fault."

Nothing I say works, she continues to cry and shake and whimper against me. So I do all I can think of, pressing gentle kisses to her neck. "Not your fault," I murmur. "Breathe, Madge." Slowly her tears stop, my lips stay warm against her skin. "All right?" Eventually she nods, slowly pulling herself away from me. Madge's hand smooth across her neck. Her blue eyes are dotted with tears, her cheeks shamefully pink.

Madge attempts to rest herself against my chest but I pull her face into my hands, lowering my forehead to hers. She sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes fluttering shut quickly. "I can't do this," she croaks. I wipe the moisture from under her eyes and wait for her to look at me again. "I can't."

"You can," I reassure her, unaware of what exactly it is she's referring to. "Do you want to stay here tonight?" She goes to protest and I lower my face closer to hers. Our noses brush and her breath hitches in her throat. "Stay here tonight."

"Gale,"

"I'll keep you safe." Again she goes to protest and the only thing I can think of that will stop her is to kiss her. We're close enough as it is, I can feel her breath dancing across my lips, begging me to just close that _stupid_ gap between us. But I don't. I don't kiss her because just as I go to my mother calls me for dinner. Madge gulps, her eyebrows knitting in a question. "Come on," I pull her up. "They've been waiting to meet you."

* * *

Dinner is surprisingly simple. The mayor's daughter in Madge comes out and she smiles brightly, pleased to be in the room. If I hadn't seen her broken just a few minutes ago I would never be able to guess. And the Games continue.

Madge takes her seat gracefully and Vick's the first to talk.

"You're pretty," he says, the astonishment Posy had in her voice is evident in his now. Vick's cheeks instantly flare up. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

It almost looks as if Madge blushes too. She smiles and says, "It's alright, thank you."

Conversation is natural with my family and I've never been more grateful. My mother asks about her schooling from _before_, and Madge tells her she was highest in most of her classes. My mother mumbles something about _me_ never doing well in school, which causes most of the table to laugh.

"Miss Madge," Posy pokes at her peas with her fork. "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Posy, anything."

The little girl looks up bright eyed at the blonde that so willingly bends to meet her needs. "Can you play the piano for me?" This starts an uprising from my mother, how Madge shouldn't be disturbed and we shouldn't hold her social life and we're just being friendly, and _sorry_ she's so _little_.

Madge squints but smiles, "It's alright, Hazelle. I'd love to play for Posy. All of you, actually. I played for Gale the other day, it's no trouble."

My mom pauses in her babbling, looking back at Madge. "Are you sure? I'd hate for us to be a bother on you, I really don't want to stress you out, dear." My mother's concern for Madge's sanity is refreshing, almost touching. I never thought that she'd care so much about a girl she doesn't even know. Care for a girl all because I'm in love with her.

"Honestly," Madge grins. "The piano's pretty much the only thing that _doesn't_ stress me out anymore." Posy bounces in her seat, giggling like a maniac. "How's tomorrow sound?" Vick's entranced in the fact that Madge'll play the piano for them, Rory just grins down at his plate the entirety of dinner.

"So, Mom," I look in her direction. If I ask now in front of the whole family she'll _have_ to say yes. "Madge is gonna stay the night. Is that okay?" The blonde in question drops her gaze down to her plate instantly, Rory's eyes widen in my direction.

"I—" my mother is at a loss for words. Posy giggles. "She—"

Rory speaks for the first time all night. "Aw, let her stay, Ma!" Everyone snaps to face Rory who shrugs innocently. "What?"

"I suppose that would be fine," she stumbles over her words. "As long as nothing…"

"Yes ma'am," Madge squeaks.

"Nothing," I nod. Madge glances toward me and her cheeks are sparked with pink. But she smiles. And I know from the look in her eyes that it's sincere.

* * *

I follow Madge into my room, her hands slide against the walls and she glances around, absorbing every aspect of every inch. Her eyes study the color of the carpet, the few pictures we have hanging on our walls.

"Your house smells like cinnamon," she tells me as I shut the door. Madge slinks gracefully onto my bed, her eyes staring back at mine. "I like it." I chuckle, walking over and standing in front of her. She chews her lip nervously, eyes continuing to scan over the room. "You've really moved in."

"My mom," I tell her. "She wanted it to feel homey."

"It does," Madge replies softly. Eventually her eyes meet mine again. "Are you sure that—"

"Yes, Madge," I sigh. "Do you need anything from your house? Or—"

"I can just sleep in one of your shirts—" she sputters out quickly. Her cheeks are bright again and her eyes glow. I can't help but chuckle again, turning to my dresser. "Preferably," she pauses, dropping her voice. I turn back to face her, urging her to continue on. "Preferably nothing new. Maybe an old t-shirt or something."

I raise an eyebrow but comply, veering from my dresser back to my closet. I open the door slowly and dig through one of the boxes in the back corner. My mom kept all of the things we had from the Seam but she doesn't like to use them. I want the reminder of home but at the same time I feel out of place if I wear something from there. Eventually I find an old red shirt, one I used to wear to bed. I hold it up for her to evaluate and she nods slightly.

"Bathroom's across the hall," I tell her, tossing it in her direction. It should be long enough to reach her knees, and if not, well…

She gratefully accepts the shirt that is now the same color of her cheeks and exits the room quickly. While she's gone I change myself, slipping into some pants and a shirt. Maybe I should get something out of Rory's drawers for her to wear.

A few minutes later she's back, chewing on her lip and glancing down at herself. It looks like a nightgown on her, ungraceful yet still stunning. Her legs are exposed, smooth and shining under the lights, and she holds one of her arms. Despite everything in my head screaming _don't you dare ask_, I have to. "Do you want me to get you some pants?"

She frowns. "Do I look that bad?"

I laugh as she shuts the door, slinking back into my room with ease. "No. You don't look bad at all. I just figured you might want pants."

She strides over to me, looking me up and down. "Like yours? No thank you." Again I laugh. "Listen, Gale, you don't…" I grab her wrist and pull her toward the bed. "I won't be able to sleep," she whispers.

"I'll stay up with you," I say. She looks hesitant but eventually climbs onto the bed. I wait until she gets comfortable before crossing the room to turn off the lights, and then I join her.

This is what I wanted, all those nights ago in the arena. To be able to hold her at night in a real bed. To lose myself in Madge Undersee. The feel of her skin, the taste of her lips. But that won't happen tonight. Tonight I'll just hold her. Tonight I'll remind her that she isn't entirely broken. That I can fix her if she'll let me.

I crawl into bed and hold open my arms, waiting for her to slink into my grasp. She does so, nuzzling up to my chest instantly. I sigh and so does she, her fingers curling across my shirt.

"We can't do this," she tells me. "I can't, I'm…"

"Just be quiet," I murmur before pressing my lips to her forehead. Again she sighs, though her grip on me tightens.

"You're too good at this," she whimpers, burying herself against me.

"At what?"

There's a pause before she answers. "Pretending."

I almost laugh but it won't climb out my throat. It comes out more like a choke, "It's because I'm not." She doesn't say anything but I don't sleep. Every once in awhile she'll shift in her spot and I'll bring her closer, so close that I can feel her heartbeat against me. And every time her eyes catch on the light of the moon that streams through my window and I know she's awake I whisper her secrets.

I tell her about the first time I crossed the fence by myself and didn't tell my mom. How she didn't speak to me for a week because she was so angry with me. I tell Madge about how I sold all my birthday presents one year at the Hob so I could buy our family hot chocolate because Posy had never had any. I tell her that I have nightmares too.

And right before she falls asleep she whispers me her secret. "I used to hate strawberries," she murmurs, sleep evident in her voice. "But I've always loved you."

* * *

_A/N: Hello! Sorry my updates on this story are taking a bit longer. Not only is school overwhelmingly draining me but I seem to be lacking inspiration. I have most of this story already planned out, I just can't ever figure out how to get it on paper, or well, Word Document. All my work is feeling unquality to me and it's just making me angry. But I won't give up on this story! Trust me!_


	32. Chapter 32

_He places his hand roughly on my shoulder. "I knew you'd make it," he says. "You were different than the rest of us. Not sure how, you just were."_

"_I wish I didn't," I respond. His dark hand pulls away from me like he's been burned. "It hurts too much." The words flow out of me before I can stop them, unconsciously admitting things I'd never tell anyone except someone like him. _

"_You can't say that out loud," he nearly snaps, pacing the small space of light in front of me. I don't know where we are. It's small, suffocating, hazy. "You could join us if you wanted, but you don't. You'll fight this." _

_Just as I go to respond, question how he knows what I want, what I'm _capable_ of, another man joins us on the platform on which we stand. He slowly creeps into the light, his heavy features illuminated with shadows. He's frowning, he doesn't look happy. And why should he be?_

_I start, "Dad—" He's disappointed in me. I can read his face just like I could when I was little. He shakes his head and I stumble backwards. He's mad that I killed; he's disgusted that I'm a Victor, that I let the Capitol win. "I didn't—"_

"_You've fought too long to give up now," he tells me, his voice carrying the same bit of anger it used to when I was in trouble. "You can't want this. A life like ours. You will _fight_, Gale. You'll fight for your mother and your family. You'll fight for your girl."_

_I try again, "Dad—" I can't find the words, my head shakes back and forth. Finally I decide on, "I'm sorry."_

"_For what?" He pulls me into his arms briskly. "I'm so proud of you, son." Just as his arms tighten around my back he dissolves into the ground, smoke and fog filling the air. _

_Thresh lumbers back and tips his head once, placing his shoulder on my hand again. "Me too, Hawthorne. Don't mess this up." And then he's gone too. _

* * *

I sit up in a start, mostly startled from the way they slipped so easily from my grasp. Madge shifts from next to me, tightening her grip around my body. Her hands quickly lift up to my chest, pulling me back into a laying position.

"Hey," she whispers, nudging me until I roll on my side to face her. "You're okay." I nod. She shouldn't have to comfort me. It was just a dream. It's not rare I dream of my father but Thresh was a new one. Sometimes he'll just stop by. Wave. Tip his head in my direction. Encourage me. I hate it.

Her hands lift to slip across my forehead, wiping the thin layer of sweat that's formed away. "I'm fine," I say. She blinks a few times, most likely to wake herself up, but I lower my hand over her eyes. "Go back to sleep, I'm fine."

"What was your dream about?" she asks, though she obliges and closes her eyes. Madge snuggles closer, wrapping herself around my chest. Her warmth radiates and soothes me, she smells like sugar. "The Games?"

Her voice is so effortless, so casual, it sort of bothers me. "Kind of. Thresh and my dad." Her hands gently pull across my chest until my eyes shut too. "Just talking," I murmur. Then they faded, but they'll never truly leave me. They're stamped upon my existence, bright stars that'll never leave my blurry vision.

"Mine was about you," she hums. My eyes snap open, though muddled with sleep, but she doesn't move. "I woke up in the hospital under the Training Center but you didn't."

"Madge,"

"Didn't wake up until you sat up though," she whispers. I press forward until my lips graze across her forehead. "I hate sleeping."

"I'm right here," I tell her. Again she scoots closer. "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Somehow we manage to drift off again. I make sure Madge is out before I succumb to the call as well. She tangles her legs with mine, her shirt, _my_ shirt, riding up her thighs. Her hands slip against my chest and over my back. Endlessly uncaring. Perfectly content.

We both startle awake as a knock echoes through from the door. Madge groans, burying her face into my side. "Time is it?"

"Too early," I murmur back before tightening my grip around her. Again the knock echoes. "_What?_" I call. "Go away."

A voice trills from the other side and the door cracks open. "Morning, morning," she calls. "It's going to be a big, big day!" Madge and I both jump up to the voice of Effie Trinket. Loud. Real. In my bedroom. Effie's just as overbearing as she was when I first met her. Her hair is blue and pink, her dress twirls and swirls with both colors as well. She locates Madge still wrapped around me and her eyes widen. "Madge!" she says brightly when she spots her favorite tribute. "G-Gale," she nods in my direction. It must have registered that we're in my house, not Madge's.

"Effie," Madge says back politely, rubbing her eyes as she tries to wake up.

"I am _so_ sorry," the escort stumbles backwards on her crooked heels. "I had _no_ idea that you two were, t-together." She reaches the door and attempts to pull it shut. "I mean I knew you were together I just didn't think you would be _sleeping_ together I apologize I am _so_ sorry."

"It's alright Effie," Madge laughs, looking up at me. "We should get up anyway. Be down in a bit." Effie's cheeks match the vibrant pink of her hair as she nods, quickly pulling the door shut. Her heels clacking down the stairs are loud and clear, hilarious against the giggles that radiate from Madge. "Oh my God," Madge collapses backwards on the bed and stares at the ceiling, laughter building up until it's spilling into the room in loud pleasant spurts.

I grin, "What's so funny?" The sound of her laugh is so foreign, so brilliant that it instantly wakes me up.

"Effie! Us! I don't know!" I prop myself on my elbow and she does the same, tiny giggles continuing to spill out. "Did you see her face? She was so embarrassed! Like she walked in on us naked! Effie's _bashful_!" Madge pulls her hand through her hair, blonde locks toppling down her shoulders gracefully. "We can milk that for all it's worth," she cheers. My jaw must drop because she giggles again, slowly pushing herself from the warmth of the bed. "Come on," she calls over her shoulder. "Might as well see what she wants."

* * *

Madge doesn't bother getting dressed. Vick and Rory are at school so there's no real reason for her to cover her legs. Not that I mind. Effie, however, is still a bit wide-eyed around us. She fidgets nervously on the couch across from me and Madge while I can hear my mother and Posy making breakfast in the kitchen.

"I suppose this is better anyway," Effie says slowly, her eyes tracing over the state of Madge's hair and the shirt that barely covers her thighs. "Talking to both of you at once. Yes, much better. Less trips for me!" Finally her smile is back and bright, though her eyes continue to scan us. "The Victory Tour is starting soon," she tells us pleasantly. "Isn't that exciting? I'm already finished the schedules, it's _very_ exciting. Cinna, Portia, and your prep teams will be here next week. As will many camera men, so you two must be together much more! I've been told you haven't been spending much time together?" Her eyebrows knit as she awaits an answer.

"My father is against our relationship," Madge says carefully. "He doesn't like Gale because he thinks he's stealing his precious daughter." Effie's glare lessens, morphing into a face of understanding. "Clearly you see I've stopped caring."

Effie's cheeks darken again. "Clearly." After a pause to compose herself she continues. "Which is _good_. It's so _wonderful_ to see you two together, you really do bring out the best in each other." I gaze down at Madge and reach for her hand, she twines her fingers with mine. "See," Effie smiles. "You two."

"Alright," I nod, "together more." I can do that. No problem. "What else?"

Effie's lips form a tight line. "_You_, Gale Hawthorne, have not chosen a _talent_."

"Yes he has," Madge says quickly. "He's a photographer." Crap. I haven't been taking pictures. I tried but I couldn't figure out how to get the thing working. I look down at Madge but she just shakes her head quickly. "The camera is upstairs in his room," she continues. "There's a roll of film in the camera. He's been taking pictures all week. Right, Gale?"

"I—"

"Right," Madge says again. "You'll _love_ them, Effie. Gale really has an eye for beauty."

"Don't I believe it," Effie smiles at the blonde. "Well, I'll be getting that camera, I suppose, and then I'll visit Haymitch. I'm on the train back to the Capitol tonight, I'll get that film developed Gale! Everyone will be _so _excited!" The escort quickly stands, rushing up the stairs with a bright smile. "So exciting!"

Once Effie's gone I turn to Madge quickly, my mouth opening to speak. "I know you haven't been taking pictures," she tells me, taking her hand from mine. It's cold in her absence. "There're pictures left on there that I took. They're not the best but they'll be good enough for Effie. For now."

I ease. "Thanks." She shrugs, pulling the hem of her shirt down more on her legs. "Did you sleep okay?"

Madge smiles down at the floor. "Yes. Thank you."

"Don't thank me," I almost laugh, nudging her. "You come over whenever you want to, alright?" She nods and I nudge her again. "I mean it."

Again she smiles. "Alright, Gale."

Effie pounds back down the stairs holding up a roll of film. "Exciting, so exciting! My two favorite tributes!" She breezes past us and toward the front door. "It was so _wonderful_ to see you two! I've left both of your schedules with your mother, Gale, I expect you to look over them! I'll be back next week! The cameramen will be here soon to get some pre-Victory Tour shots of you two! So be prepared!" We both nod and she pulls the door open. "Now over to Haymitch," she murmurs. "Farewell, you two!"

The front door shuts and Madge collapses backwards on the couch. "How does she have so much energy?"

* * *

The week speeds by. Madge will go home during the day to do God knows what but always comes back at night for dinner. We talk until she falls asleep, and then she's gone in the morning, back to her house to repeat the process. I assume she plays the piano, maybe. Hopefully she's unpacking.

Not only that but she teaches me to use the camera. God, I can't remember all the technical names for all the fancy parts, and I barely remember how to put in new film, but it's simple enough to take a picture. Posy becomes my muse. I follow her around all day taking pictures. Up close, from far away. Sometimes she'll pose in her fancy dress outfits, other times she doesn't even know I'm taking pictures.

At night after dinner I'll often take pictures of Madge too. She hates it, her cheeks always turn bright pink and she tries to run. I get a few good shots though, all beautiful. As expected.

Today, however, Madge has stayed past breakfast. I don't ask why in fear of her noticing this too, packing up and leaving quickly. When we woke everyone was gone. My brothers are at school, my mother left a note saying she went into town with Posy for the day and should be back a bit before dinner. God only knows how the woman can possibly spend the entire day in town.

"Gale," Madge says as she places her dishes in the sink. "Everyone's coming tomorrow." Portia. Cinna. Prep teams. Effie. Camera crews.

"I know," I say, pushing myself out of my seat to follow her. My plates clash in the sink and she wrinkles her nose, turning to lean against the counter. "And?"

"And," Madge begins as I cross my arms, standing in her path. "Haymitch says we act like an awkward couple that just broke up."

I snort, "You talked to Haymitch?"

"Not willingly," she sighs. "But he's right. We're not… we're not like we were when we left the Capitol." I take a step closer to her, causing Madge's blue eyes to scan up my chest until they meet mine.

"That so?"

"Yes," she forces out. "So when they film us reuniting we'll have to make it _seem_ like," Madge swallows thickly, "like nothing's changed. And I know it's going to be awkward but—" Before I can stop myself my hands circle around her. I lean forward until my forehead drops to hers. Her eyes are wide and alert when she asks, "What are you doing?"

"Making tomorrow less awkward," I murmur back.

"Gale," she starts but never finishes as I dip my lips to her neck. She sighs and shudders as I graze over her skin. Light kisses, gentle, her hand bunches my shirt against my chest. "I don't—"

My grip around her tightens. "Tell me to stop," I demand. "If you don't want this then tell me to stop." But she doesn't she says perfectly quiet, her hands continuing to hold firm against my chest.

I continue down her neck savoring every peck, the way her heartbeat pounds and yet she stays sturdy. Down, down until I reach her collarbone and receive a breath of air in response from her. My hands reach down and hoist her up to the counter; she squeaks in surprise but still doesn't object. Even on the counter I'm taller than her, having to lean down even more so I can trail back up her neck.

Her skin melts against mine. "Gale," she tries again. Her voice is shaky yet soothing, her hands slide up my neck. One slips up my hair and teases my hairline, I smirk against her skin as my heart picks up pace too. Up, up her neck, across her jaw, below her ear. "_Gale_," she pants.

I pull away, resting my forehead against hers. "Hm?" Her lips stretch for mine but she doesn't move. Madge's eyes frantically scan mine, her cheeks are infinitely pink. "Want me to stop?"

"No," she breathes. My hands cup her cheeks and her ankles latch behind me.

"Then what do you want, Madge?"

Her eyes flutter shut and after a moment she answers, "You to kiss me." Her eyes snap open again and lock with mine.

"As you wish," I respond, leaning slowly until my lips hover over hers. Not quite a kiss, not yet, I can feel her breath against me.

"_Gale_," she nearly pleads.

That's when I lose it. Our lips collide frantically, hot air filling the room, skin soft against skin. Desperate, needy, that's what her kiss is like. Like she'll never get the chance to do it again. And hell, if there isn't anything I like better than kissing Madge Undersee.

Why doesn't she understand? Understand that this is for _her_, not for them? The way her warm lips nip against mine, her hands unsure where to rest as they pull me as close as possible. Her hair, tangled between my fingers as I hold her steady. This is for _her_, for _me_, because I _do_ love her. Not just her taste and her feel and her heavenly scent, but the way she laughs and the way she makes me tingle.

I slide my tongue against her bottom lip and a mew of ecstasy escapes her. Madge's ankles tighten around me and I slow the kiss. Gentle, so I can savor it. The bittersweet enjoyment of knowing this is for us and not for show. One of her hands pulls at my waist and our breath collides as we suck against each other. Just as I'm about to wrap my arms around her, take her somewhere that _isn't _the kitchen and _prove_ to her that I love her, a high laugh echoes through the air.

Madge instantly pulls away; her ankles collide with the counter as her grip slackens. Her breath is still ragged and her cheeks are still flushed, but her eyes are wide as she tries to focus. Only after I regain my breath do I drag my gaze to where she's staring.

A slow clap starts and Haymitch tips his head in our direction. For Christ's sake. "Well," he begins, his eyes dancing in mirth, "I came to see how you two were going to _handle _yourselves for the Victory Tour, but it would appear you have that all sorted out."

Madge lifts her hand up to her mouth and coughs weakly, slowly pressing against my chest so I take a step backwards. I pull my hands from her waist, unaware that I had even left them there, and she slides off the counter. "I'll just be going," she says, hurriedly rushing out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

Only once I hear the door shut do I collapse backwards onto the counter with a groan, rubbing my hands over my face. "I hate you Abernathy," I mumble.

He snickers, striding across the room and playfully crossing his arms in front of me. "Don't tell me that you actually love little Miss Undersee, now do you?" I drop my hands from my face and narrow my eyes at him. He knows I do. After we got back from the Games I explained everything to him. "Oh, right, right," he lowers his hands teasingly. "You're taken with her, I forgot."

"Why are you in my house?" I snap.

Haymitch fakes a face of astonishment, "But does she actually love you back? Believe you're meant to be?"

"Haymitch I swear to God—"

"Now let's not use His name in such a foul manner, shall we?" I lock my jaw. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Hawthorne. Lighten up!" He walks across the kitchen to the liquor cabinet and pulls out a bottle of wine. His voice reaches new heights of sarcasm as he says, "The Victory Tour is starting soon!" With a roll of his eyes Haymitch takes out two glasses and collapses at the table. "She'll come around, now take a seat."

Grudgingly I push myself away from the counter and land in the chair across from him. He fills a cup up with a bit of wine before sliding it in my direction. I'm not much of a drinker but if Haymitch wants to _talk_ then I suppose it's for the best.

With a sigh and a sip I ask, "What's up?"

"There are things you should know for the Victory Tour," Haymitch tells me after a chug. "Hell, you have better liquor than me."

"It's _wine_," I snatch the bottle away from him and keep it on my side of the table. "Now _what_ do I need to _know_, Haymitch?"

He scrunches his nose at me. "You're in love with our little Margaret."

"Obviously."

"You will wear the Mockingjay pin at all times."

That one takes me back. I knit my eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because it looks nice," he drawls. "When in public you will never let go of her hand," he continues. "You will be with her at _all _times. Is that clear?"

"Yeah sure, but what's so special about this pin?"

"Lastly," Haymitch continues after downing the rest of his drink. I roll my eyes and take another sip of my drink. Does he really think he's going to get me off the topic of the pin? I know who I need to be. An award winning Victor. Smile. Wave. Act like I'm the best thing since the coal cart, yadda yadda. But he does. In six words. "You'll have to marry Madge Undersee."

* * *

_A/N: Seriously lacking inspiration with the story. I don't know why it's taking me so long to get my thoughts into words. Sorry about that. Thought it was time for some kisses._


	33. Chapter 33

My prep team is in and out. Shrills of ecstasy, hugs too tight. Of course once the thrill of the moment is done with they go right back to their normal routine of talking about themselves. About their food, their hair, their lives, all the meanwhile I'm thinking about mine.

I have to marry Madge.

I love her, I do, but I'm only 18. I don't want to get married, not yet. I want to fall _in love_ with her. Not just the basics but every little detail. Her barely visible freckles, the various shades of her golden hair, her fake laughs when I'm trying to be funny. All of it. More than just the big picture.

Not only that but I want her to believe that I love her. I _need_ her to know that I'm not acting. That if it wasn't being forced I'd wait until it was all right and then propose like my father did to my mother. This is probably the _worst_ thing for right now. I need more time.

"Gale," Aelia pulls my face into her hands. "Stop _scowling_ it isn't attractive."

"Speak for yourself," Prisca jeers at her, prying Aelia's hands off of me. "We're done, let's go." As Prisca pulls Aelia and Vius from my room she winks, waving her hand over her shoulder at me.

A readjust myself in my seat, turning to look at myself in the mirror. The bit of coal I've been able to coat myself in is already gone, gone, gone. I'm once again a toy of the Capitol. A piece in their Games, fresh out of the box and ready to play. My hair looks nice. At least I'm dressed.

Portia pounces in the room moments later with a bright smile on her face. I leap from my seat and she rushes into my arms.

She laughs as I lift her from the floor. "Oh, it's so good to see you," she cheers. "Your hair looks great," she tells me once I set her down, and then I laugh too. Thank God for Portia. "My, my, Gale Hawthorne, you look _just_ like a Victor."

"Maybe I am one," I plop back into my seat with a smirk. She grins, taking a few steps to the other side of the room and peeling an outfit from a white bag.

"Maybe," she says as she reveals what I'll be wearing. "Nice and warm for the trip to the train."

I laugh, "I need an entire outfit just for the trip to the train?" A white padded jacket, some dark pants that are clearly insulated. Gloves. Hat. The whole winter sha-bang. She nods and urges it in my direction. I lift myself from the seat again and stride toward the clothing, slowly picking up each and slipping it on. "Portia, can we talk?"

"You can always talk to me."

She helps me zipper the jacket despite me being perfect capable. "How do you get someone to know that you really love them?" She smirks at my chest as I step into my pants. "Nothing overbearing, but… but not," I sigh and run my hands through my hair. Portia angrily swats them away and I know I've messed up my image. "Portia," I grumble. "Hair later."

She crosses her arms and takes a step back, a playful smile still on her face. "You tell them."

"That doesn't work." Not when she doesn't believe me. Not when Madge thinks I'm lying. Not when she won't bend.

"Then you _make_ them know. Gale," she taps my cheek and thrusts the hat over my head. Looks like my hair wasn't important after all. "You're charming, you're brilliant. She already loves you, so that's not the goal. The goal is to make her know that you _love_ her."

"I know, I just—"

A sudden knock on the door reveals a peering prep team led by an impatient camera crew waiting for us, pulling the conversation away. Portia mouths the word _later_ and I nod in agreement, allowing me to be whisked away by those who 'need' me.

In the living room of my house awaits Effie Trinket, clapping her hands and bouncing on her toes. Her wig is purple this time, vivid and capturing. "Attention, everyone! We're about to do the first outdoor shot, where the victors greet each other at the beginning of their marvelous trip!" She looks at me and her excitement shrinks. "Smile, Gale. You don't look good when you scowl." To that I scowl and Portia snickers.

A few moments later my mother rushes into the room, thrusting something into my hand. "Haymitch told me you'd need it," she says. As an afterthought she pulls it from my hand, unclamping the pin and then attaching it to my jacket. I never _did _find out why this damn Mockingjay is so important. My mother smiles and cups my face. "Love you dear."

"See you soon, Ma," I say back before leaning down and kissing her cheek.

I wave to Posy over my mother's shoulder and she giggles, blowing a kiss in my direction. I already said goodbye to Rory and Vick before they left for school, and goodbye to Thom and Katniss yesterday before I went to bed. Still, it feels strange leaving.

Portia shoves me out the door and into the cold. I shiver at the sudden burst of wind and squint into the snowflakes that fall from the sky. A creak of a door catches my attention and I see Madge stepping out of her house just down the way. Even from here I can see her smiling, pounding away in my direction. And then I can't help it, I'm pounding down in her direction too.

She's made up, heavy and unnecessary makeup covering her gentle features, yet still shining and beautiful overall. Once she's close she grins brighter and quickens her pace, running toward me and throwing her arms around my neck. Almost automatically my arms lock behind her and lift her from the ground, spinning her lightly.

There are no cameras. No Effie Trinket. No prep teams. No Capitol. Just me and Madge. I lower her to the ground gently and then rest my forehead against hers.

Her hand slips up my cheek and she lips her lips. "Hey," she breathes.

I chuckle, dropping down and capturing her lips quickly. As I go to pull away Madge presses herself on her tiptoes to keep the kiss longer. I smile into it, wrapping my arm around her hip and tugging her closer. Both of Madge's hands press against my cheeks and I groan, causing her to giggle and pull away.

I take a moment to study her state. The pink to her cheeks and brightness to her eyes. "Nice pin," she adds before pressing another kiss to me.

* * *

The rest of the trip to the train is a blur but I'm always aware of the warmth Madge is constantly providing for me. She squeezes my hand and nuzzles against my side. It kills me wondering if this is for the cameras that are watching or if she'd be doing this anyway. I wish I could talk to Portia.

Once we're actually on the train I get to change out of my tight, but very warm, snow gear. Someone has laid out some pajamas, something simple yet still warm. I slip into them quickly not bothering to take a shower considering they bathed me today already. Everyone sits down to eat. Portia, Cinna, Effie, Haymitch, me and Madge. Effie runs on and on about our first stop in District 11. Haymitch pours liquor into whatever drink he has, which might just be a different type of alcohol. Cinna and Madge laugh about things without even talking, showing me how strong their bond really must be. Portia watches me in amusement.

The food is delicious, and once we're done eating we're sent to bed. Despite trying to get another word with Portia she quickly disappears with Cinna and I find myself alone in my room.

I stare at the ceiling, wondering how long it'll take to get to District 11. Out of all the places we're going this one will be the hardest, I'm sure of it. At least we're getting it out of the way, I guess. What am I supposed to say to the families? Thank you? I'm sorry? I'm not supposed to be sorry, but God knows I am. I'm sorry I couldn't save little Rue, her name now like a whisper in the winds. I'm sorry Thresh couldn't have come back with us, the boy I called my friend.

Angrily, I pull my hands over my face. Just as I get up to turn off the light a timid knock echoes through my door. Quickly I push myself from the bed and slide my door open. Madge stands on the other side, her eyebrows knitted painfully, wearing a tiny smile. Wordlessly I grab her wrist and pull her into my room, letting the door shut behind her.

I had wondered if our deal would carry over to the train. It almost aches to watch her crawl across my mattress, slipping under the sheets so nervously. I smile sadly, watching as her eyes travel up and find mine. Bright blue, filled with sadness. I know she's not exactly anticipating District 11 either.

"Gale," she starts, but I shake my head and slowly join her in bed. I tighten my grip around her waist and bring her body against mine, sliding my forehead down until it meets hers. And then before she can say anything else I press my lips to hers once. Her hand slips up my cheek and hesitantly she pulls away. "What was that for?" she mumbles.

"For you," I answer. "And me. And not them." She frowns but studies my eyes. "Sometimes I think _you're_ pretending," I whisper. She's too good at it, putting on the show for everyone else.

"Sometimes I wish I was." I swallow tightly and her hand falls from my cheek.

_I love you_, I want to say. _Let me love you_. _Give me that chance_. But instead I sigh and tighten my arms around her. "Let's sleep," I murmur. She nods and buries her face in my chest. Madge's fingers curl across my shirt and I let out a deep breath, my hands sturdy against the small of her back.

"I don't want to go to District 11," she whimpers. "I can't do this Gale."

"Yes you can," I tell her. "I'll be with you." She nods and lets out a shaky breath. I press kisses to the top of her head. "Get some sleep, Madge." Again she nods, and eventually her breath evens out and I know she's asleep. But I can't drift away. I keep thinking of Thresh and how I was so damn sure it wouldn't come down to us. And it did. And I really wish it hadn't.

* * *

Morning comes and I peel my eyes open, having to blink a few times to erase the tired from my eyes. My throat hurts, I'll have to tell Portia when she's getting me ready. Madge is still asleep, curled in a ball and tightly latched to me. When I move I try my hardest not to wake her but she stirs anyway. Her hands tighten around me and she groans.

"Too early."

I snicker, silently agreeing with her. The good thing is that we woke up on our own, meaning it clearly isn't time to get up yet. Effie will surely be here when we have to start getting ready for our _big, big day_. Of course, the second I let my eyes close again a pounding raps on my door. Again Madge groans but neither of us move, keeping our tight grip on one another.

"Gale Hawthorne!" Effie's voice rings from the other end. "Open this door! Is Madge in there? She's not in her room!" Madge lets out a dry laugh and slowly peels herself from me.

"No," I smother her against me. "Get more sleep."

Again she laughs, "I gotta get up, Gale. Girls take longer to get ready." I shake my head as she fights against my arms with a smile. Her golden hair topples over her shoulders and flies in my face as she tries to extract herself from my stronghold. "Gale!" Madge screeches my name with a laugh as I pin her wrists to the bed.

The knocking on the other side of the door stops and both Madge and I turn our heads curiously.

"Oh, um," Effie's bashful voice comes from the other side. "Just… five minutes, you two!" Then her heels are heard quickly clicking down the train hallway.

Once we hear another door shut Madge and I burst into hysterics. I roll off of her and we both stare at the ceiling as laughter flows so naturally out of us. Madge shakes her head with a grin and shoves my chest playfully before slipping out of bed.

"You're going to get us in trouble, Gale Hawthorne," she scolds me with a smile. Then she winks and rushes from my room, probably chasing Effie down to apologize. With a smile I fall back into a dreamless sleep.

Eventually, however, Effie comes to wake me up too. Her eyes won't meet mine and she has a constant blush that contrasts the white of her skin. She leads me to my prep team and they're all talking in whispers when I arrive, only to end them the second I come into view.

"Morning," Prisca smiles brightly. Vius smirks, nudging Aelia with a giggle. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that Effie has a big mouth and rumors are already traveling through the train. They do simple things, considering I was mostly scrubbed clean right before the trip to the train.

After a few hours of mostly silent preparations in which they pluck at my eyebrows and rub some sort of cream over my chin, I'm released for lunch. Haymitch is there but Madge is absent, I'm sure she has a lot more to do when it comes to getting ready. Haymitch eyes me up for a moment and sips at a cup of coffee.

"I hear you had quite the night," he starts slowly.

I smirk, "Apparently _everyone_ heard." I know Haymitch isn't serious, but it's fun to shove it back at him. "Effie has a big mouth."

"You bet," he nods. "Not exactly a bad thing," he adds as an afterthought, and then he raises an eyebrow at me as if to say _keep it up_. I roll my eyes and force down a muffin as the train suddenly slows to a stop.

Effie looks up from the papers in her hands scans around the room. "No, no, no," she shakes her head. "This cannot be happening!"

It turns out that one of the parts of the train is malfunctioning and we need to get it replaced. It will take about an hour. Her eyes are nearly bulging out of her head as she paces the dining car, rambling on and on about how this is _not_ what needs to be happening and how we're _all_ going to be behind now.

A few moments later Madge enters the room, Cinna on her tail. Madge's hair is all pinned up and I smile, dropping my gaze to my plate before she catches me staring. Her look isn't even complete and she looks absolutely stunning.

"What's going on?" she asks carefully.

"Part needs replacing," mutters Haymitch.

"We don't have time for this!" Effie screams. "We don't! We have no time for this and…"

"Effie," Madge crosses the room and places her hand on Effie's shoulder. "Breathe." The escort is shocked by the sudden motion and freezes, nodding her head once. "_Breathe_," Madge repeats. Effie sucks in a sharp breath and lets it out slowly. She motions to the papers in Effie's hands. "How about you rework the schedule. It'll keep you busy. Okay?" Effie nods and furrows her brows before clutching the papers and striding down to her car.

Madge herself lets out a deep breath and plops in the seat next to me. "Well that was easy," Haymitch says with his eyes still wide.

She shrugs, "All Effie needs is a sense of direction." Madge turns to face me and says, "I hear you got to sleep in." I laugh, nodding. "Lucky."

"We'll just go to bed as early as we can tonight," I tell her, poking my finger at her ribs. She squirms and swats me away. We both know that sleeping early will be a bit difficult tonight considering we have the whole night to spend in District 11.

Cinna coughs, and then we both turn to watch him concealing a smile. Madge and I say nothing, returning to the food in front of us instead.

* * *

When I finally see Portia and the train has picked up the speed again, I'm really tired. It took me awhile to fall asleep last night and I'm not really up for all the gossip that's going around. Plus I think I'm getting sick. She seems to sense this and wordlessly works.

I tell her of my throat ache and she brings me some sort of warm orange liquid to drink. I down it quickly, cringing as it stings and then sighing as relief floods my system.

She brushes my hair from my forehead. "Better?" I nod and she smiles. "Has some side effects but I'm sure you'll be alright. I've heard quite the stories about you and Madge today, you know."

"Oh I'll bet," I grumble, disregarding the side effects. Portia laughs and pulls out an outfit for me. "Have you thought about what we talked about?"

"Course I have," she nods. Her eyes scan around the room and then she leans down to my ear. "Bugged," is all she whispers, and then I groan. Of course the train is bugged. Why wouldn't it be? We can't talk about something like this on the train. "Just do what I said and you'll be fine."

I let out a long breathy sigh. "Alright. Well what about this pin?" I look down as she fastens the golden bird to my shirt. I know it was Madge's token but I still don't understand what makes it so special. "Why is it such a big deal?"

"She'll tell you," Portia hums. "When the time is right." Again I groan. Why am I always kept out of the circle of trust? Then again I suppose it's something that can't be talked about on the train as well. "Just look at it this way," Portia tells me. "You and the pin are _very_ similar. Why shouldn't you wear it?"

It takes me a moment to process what she's saying. It's not the fact that it's the pin; it's the fact that it's a Mockingjay. A creature never meant to exist. A creature that has more or less shown a weakness of the Capitol. That they can't control some things. And then I know what she's saying. I'm sort of like a Mockingjay.

* * *

_A/N: Writer's block yeehaa! I'm also sick. Ugh senior year is killing me. Sorry for the mostly filler chapter!_


	34. Chapter 34

Madge insists that we both talk. She doesn't want to talk, neither do I; therefore we both get part of the burden to weigh on our shoulders. She probably has something already written out, memorized, something she's had planned for awhile, but not me. I don't know what to say.

I'm hoping it'll just come to me like everything else does.

Effie pushes us onto the stage cheering something about _big smiles_, but considering the rough ride in the back of an armored truck to get here we just took I'm not sure I can manage. Moments before we're in the spotlight Madge squeezes my hand, giving me the burst of reassurance I need to get through this.

Cheers deafen us almost instantly. We're introduced to the mayor of 11. It's so scripted. Everything is so scripted. This is all just another reminder to the people of the District we're in that they _lost_, that their children are _dead_.

And it makes me sick.

I glance at Rue's side of the stage where her family waits. She really _was_ the oldest. Lots of children. Parents still looking empty and sad. Madge doesn't glance in their direction once, I'm not sure what would happen if she did. Thresh's side of the stage is just as heartbreaking. His grandmother, his sister. Lonely. They were expecting Thresh to come home.

He almost did.

Madge speaks first, addressing the crowd instead of Rue's family. "Maybe I didn't know Rue like some people. I didn't know her favorite color, her favorite song, but I felt like I did. I've never had a sister, never had someone that was so _like_ me, someone I could protect—" her voice breaks and she glances toward Rue's family finally. "She didn't need protection, she was a strong girl. Determined. She was an angel on earth, and now she can be one in heaven. She saved me more than I saved her… _I'm sorry_ I couldn't save her."

The crowd visibly tenses at her speech and they have every right to do so. I only squeeze her hand tighter when she continues. "Thresh, we spoke. And not to be redundant but he felt like an older brother. Like he had my back even though he wasn't supposed to. Like he approved of the mischief I was in but pretended to be angry so our father wouldn't find out." I stare down at Thresh's grandmother, a weak smile on her face. "And I'm sorry that I'm the reason he isn't here. I'll never forgive myself for that."

Again the crowd is hushed, I find Madge with tears crowding her eyes. Does she know what she's done? Probably, but she seems unaffected by the danger she's clearly just thrust us into.

There's something different between an alliance and what we had with Thresh and Rue. We took it a step farther. We trusted each other. We confided in each other. We were friends. If that wasn't the first mistake I don't know what was.

And then here we are grieving. Grieving over dead tributes instead of celebrating our win. And I don't even care anymore.

When it's my turn to speak I address Rue's family first as well. "Rue reminded me a lot of my younger brother," I start slowly. How am I supposed to salvage what Madge has just done? Do I even want to? "They had similar mannerisms, chewing their cheeks, smiling when they think no one's watching." I swallow once and try my hardest to look down at her family. "She was a blessing. I just keep thinking _maybe if I had ran fast enough_ then things would've been different." I knit my eyebrows when I realize my speech is starting to sound like Madge's.

"She was bright when everything else was dark and she was sweet when everything else was cruel. She was someone that everyone should aspire to be."

"And Thresh…" I don't even know if I can do this. "He could've been my best friend. Stubborn, determined. He laughed at me and I laughed at him and I trusted him. We did what we had to do, we got each other through the Games." I watch as the crowd shifts in time. "He was just like me. Strong-minded. Proud. We were more than allies. We were friends. And I'm sorry. _God_, am I sorry there's nothing I could do."

By the way Madge un-cups our hands and instead laces my fingers, I know I've probably made it worse too. But I don't care. The way Thresh's sister looks up at me brightly, the way his grandmother has a proud smile on her face. That's enough for me.

Madge turns to me and readjusts the pin on my shirt, offering a crooked smile with tear-filled eyes.

As she lowers her hand from the golden Mockingjay a four note tune echoes across the audience. I recognize it, it was the one Madge used to communicate with Rue. And at the sound of it her eyes brighten, she faces the audience with a wide smile and whistles it back. And then if it was planned, everyone in front of us lifts up their hands in the 3 finger salute. My last goodbye to Rue.

I blink a few times, dumbfounded by what's happening in front of us and unable to respond.

"And now they fly away together," Madge whispers into the mic.

Before I have time to process what's happening we're being shoved away. We still haven't received our plaque, had a thanks from the mayor, and it causes us to stumble slowly in confusion. We're not even in the door when we hear the gunshots.

* * *

We're whisked away by Haymitch before we even get time to unravel what has happened. The noise of the gunfire rings in my head and thumps at my eardrums as Madge pulls me through the twisting turning halls of the District 11 Justice Building after our mentor.

We reach an old dusty room. I haven't even tried mapping out our path, if it's important than Madge would've. I keep hearing the noise in my head, what even happened?

"Don't think I don't know what you're up to," Haymitch growls to her. "I know _exactly_ what sort of mess you're wading around in and I am _not_ going to pull you from it this time."

"You want this just as much as I do," she snaps back. "It's only _right_ that…" Someone was shot. Multiple shots? Multiple people?

"Right? Right! It's only _right_ that you throw the entire country into mass chaos!" Mass chaos?

I throw my fists down. "What the _hell_ are you two talking about?" Madge and Haymitch both snap their heads in my direction, their faces melt as if they had forgotten I was here. Maybe I forgot I was here too. "Anyone?"

"You mean to tell me," Haymitch jabs his finger into her chest, "that he doesn't even _know_?" Madge's face turns white; she doesn't look in my direction. "Oh, great! This is just _wonderful_, Princess! He doesn't know _anything_?"

"Anything about _what_?"

Haymitch lowers his fingers and lifts his eyebrows amusedly. "Oh, go on. Tell him, Madgey. Tell him all about that little Mockingjay pin and your wonderful little visit."

She strides forward and shoves at his chest. "Shut _up_ Haymitch! Shut up! There's a reason he doesn't know!"

"Know _what_?"I groan. This isn't about the man being shot, is it? Men? There was more than one bullet, I know that. Are multiple people dead? I beg to ask but can't find the voice to do so.

Madge swallows tightly and walks over to me, leaving Haymitch to cross his arms across the room. "Gale," she says quietly. "You've got to trust me."

"I do trust you," I murmur, grabbing her hands and pulling her closer. "You know I do."

She chews her lip and knits her eyebrows. "Then let me handle this. I…" she trails off as my hands slip up her face and cup her cheeks. "Listen," she forces out weakly. I can _see_ the confliction in her eyes. "Snow visited me. There was never supposed to be two winners." At this I lower my forehead to hers, not even caring that Haymitch is just a few feet away.

"There's more to it." She nods. "What else?"

"You aren't ready," Madge chokes out. Her eyes drop to the pin on my vest and she repeats, "You aren't ready." I follow her gaze and as she goes to pull away, snatch her wrist again. "Gale," she pleads. "_Please_ don't push me."

Haymitch shakes his head, taking a few steps backwards and pulling me back to reality. My grip drops and she takes another step away.

I lock my jaw. "Why won't anyone tell me what's going on?"

Haymitch turns to me again and lets out a long deep breath. "Because you're in enough trouble as it is," he says.

* * *

Madge looks stunning as she walks into my arms. Cinna has made her another symbol of perfection. Golden hair tumbles down her left shoulder like a waterfall, she has on a light blue dress that ends at her thighs. She molds to fit in my grip, I feel her exhale across my chest as my arms wrap tighter around her.

"We have a lot to talk about," I murmur into her ear.

Before she can protest, pull away and nag me about being curious or nosy, the dinner starts. As we force down dish after dish and meal after meal I try to make myself look like a proud Victor. I know there are cameras on me with every step I take, broadcasting to the world how I present myself. I feel as though I have a lot to make up for after today's speech, after the death of someone who _whistled_.

I can't act like I'm disgusted that half of this District, most of my District and many others are starving, while I sit here and stuff my face. I can't act like I want to snap the neck of the Peacekeepers that stand by the door and prevent us from leaving.

District 11 is nothing like District 12. The security is vamped, the District, outside the main square, is dirtier, and the greater population is probably hungrier. The Peacekeepers here are dangerous and deadly and brutal.

With each reminder of how every District suffers differently I bring Madge closer. I make sure to never let go of her hand, and no matter who asks to dance I don't let them take her.

Everything is so out of my control I have to make sure something stays the same. I couldn't control what happened to the man who whistled. I can't control whoever else is going to die. I can't control anything, except how I feel for Madge, and that I can keep her safe.

* * *

Later on that night after many kisses for the camera and many dishes to appease those watching, we're finally allowed back to the train.

On the way Madge makes quiet conversation with me, telling me about how Effie was assaulted by Peacekeepers while she was just looking around.

"It wasn't that awful," Effie frowns. "Just a bit different than what I'm used to. Every District has their flaws, I suppose."

"No, it sounds terrible Effie," Madge continues. "I can't believe they would just manhandle you like that!"

"You should file a complaint," I offer almost sarcastically. Madge elbows me playfully but Effie doesn't seem to pick up on my attitude. Portia does, however, and trips me as I climb the stairs. Madge snickers, and rushes down the hall of the train, leaving me to follow.

Over my shoulder I hear Effie sigh. "They're too precious."

Before Madge can slip into her room I drag her into mine, her loud laughter as an apparent protest. Once the door shuts, however, her giggly persona drops and she is once again hiding herself being a mask of composure.

"I hate when you do that," I say, leaning backwards against the door so she can't get out. "Switch like that." Bubbly to brutal, confiding to reserved. I want the real Madge, I want her to know that she can be herself around me.

"I have to put on the proper show."

"So do I, but that doesn't mean I go around changing who I am every second I get the chance. I can't tell who you are."

She frowns. "Can I go put on pajamas?"

"Wear something of mine."

"Gale," she steps forward and rests her hands on my chest. "I know you want to talk about the," her voice drops, "the gun, and the _pin_ but I really don't think…"

"Wear something of mine," I say again, gesturing toward the dresser. "You can change in the bathroom, I'll change out here." Eventually she tips her head into a nod, golden curls tumbling over her shoulder.

Madge digs through the dresser and pulls out a dress shirt and some boxers, not even giving me a glance as she makes her way to the bathroom. Tease.

I strip into my underclothes and pull on some fresh pajamas, waiting for Madge to return. When she does I have to blink a few times. She's pulled her hair out of the side pony it was pinned in and now instead of curls on one side of her head they're all down her back and both shoulders. She smiles coyly at me, pulling on the hem of her shorts as though she's nervous.

I tip my head toward the bed and wait for her to climb in before joining. It's getting ever so difficult to repress pinning her down and bringing her lips to mine. Instead I swallow once and pull her body against mine in a stronghold, reminding myself that I can keep her safe. She turns so she's facing me, her hands instantly lift to stroke my cheek.

"Do you think we made things worse today?" she asks. "With what we said?"

"I hope so," I mutter halfheartedly. I don't _really_ hope so, I'm just so tired of the entire day I can't help but grump. Madge smiles before burying her face in my chest. "That's a good thing, isn't it?" I can tell by the way her face lit up that she approves of what I said, though I wish she hadn't.

"Probably not," she chuckles. The noise is intoxicating. "Depends on your point of view." She pulls her face up and glances at me again. "From our point of view, it's good. From an official's point of view, it's not good at all."

I furrow my brows. "And this has to do with the pin?"

"Kind of."

"Madge," I tighten my grip around her waist, keeping my hands on the small of her back. My fingers trace up her spine, under her shirt. Madge shudders and lets her eyes flutter shut for a moment.

"It's a symbol, Gale," she says before finally opening her eyes. We roll a bit as the train lurches forward. "The Mockingjay was never meant to exist." Her finger jabs lightly at my chest. "Neither were two Victors."

I grab her hand and lace my fingers with hers, trying to process the thought but keep a calm face through the entire interaction. "You figure that out all on your own?"

"I'm observant."

"You're lying," I laugh, pressing a kiss to her nose. She wrinkles it but continues to smile. "So you're breaking rules?"

Madge shrugs, "I have a knack for it. So do you."

"This is a little extreme, Madge," I whisper. "You're putting yourself in danger."

"I'm doing it for Rue," she states strongly. Her voice is powerful, proud, but her eyes are instantly filled with water. "And for Thresh. And for all those other kids that wrongly died, Gale." It takes all I have not to send my lips against hers. Weakly I lower my forehead to Madge's and brush her bangs from her face. "I just want people to realize that not all Victor's are killers. I want people to know that things can be different."

"You're gonna get yourself killed," I tell her.

"It's not like I'm starting an uprising," she says as I wipe under her eyes. "I just want people to know that we _care_. That we can make a difference if we want to."

I sigh. "That leads to an uprising." She smiles softly. "But you know that. You're observant."

"Go to bed," she tells me before her face is in my chest again. "We've got a whole other District to impress tomorrow." I press my lips to her forehead and she wraps her arm around my side.

"You're awful." There's a pause as she laughs. "And impossible." Again she laughs. I don't think she realizes there's no one else I'd rather be with.

* * *

_A/N: Hi. Sorry this too me so long. College is stressful and I have brain block and ugh. Hope you like it. Kind of slow, I guess. I'm working on it. Lemme know if you find any errors, I'll fix them! Thanks for all who are still sticking around._


	35. Chapter 35

Every District is a challenge but they all manage to get easier after 11. Looking into the eyes of the families who lost their children, especially the lives we've personally taken, it destroys me. Whenever I enjoy a District, the smell of the trees or the animals, I begin to feel guilty. Someone else could've been here to experience this. Travel through the Districts.

It isn't until we reach District 4 that I stop building up the guilt. I won't look at the family of the girl I killed, I can't. I won't. I rub my temples to ease away my headache. I tell myself that guilt is an excuse to pity yourself, and considering I'm alive I have no excuse for pity.

Instead of wallowing around in my room, I follow Madge out to the shoreline with my camera and take pictures of her with her feet in the water. She tells me stories of how the ocean came to be, and though they're just stories I chose to believe them. She laughs as I splash her. Her dress billows in the sea breeze. We watch a fishing ship return home for the celebration tonight. Only once do we catch the cameras watching us, and even then we pretend that they aren't.

Because this isn't for them.

Madge digs her hands into the sand and spreads it over her toes, grain by grain. "I could fall in love with the ocean if they'd let me," she tells me. "It's beautiful here."

I gaze across the waves that lap at the shore, the sparkle of the sun that reflects over the ocean. "Which part?"

"All of it. The smell, the breeze," she lays backwards in the sand. "The air."

"Better than coal dust," I mutter instantly.

I can't help but compare every District to our own. The way that some of the people in District 10 are able to ride horses around, galloping through the trails and receiving their small burst of freedom. Or the way District 7 smells, like pine and heaven. It reminded me of the woods. Yes, all District's have their troubles, but compared to 12 they don't seem as bad.

She smiles lightly and shrugs, propping herself back up on her elbows. "Maybe. District 12 lacks physical beauty but has other hidden wonders."

My eyebrows lift and I lean to face her. "That so?"

"Yes," she nods. "We get a quiet life. No one expects much from us. Families have more time together, I think, than if we lived in a place like this. Men go out on fishing trips for days at a time, at least ours get to come home every night." Her smile dims a bit. "We have the meadow. I think that's beautiful."

"You've been to the meadow?"

Again she shrugs, "Once or twice with Peeta. A few times with Katniss."

At the mention of the brunette Madge frowns, furrowing her eyebrows together. I wonder if Katniss has spoken to her yet. She told me she would, and she better. It's not even the fact that it's Madge, it's just the fact that they're friends. She should've been there for her, because I know Madge would've been there for Katniss.

"Maybe you should move here," I change the subject. "District 4. Fall in love with it."

Her smile returns just a bit. "Only if you come with me."

* * *

The Capitol is the worst celebration of them all. I feel like I'm constantly suffocating in a cloud of coal dust, forcing smiles and shaking hands with people who make me sick. I can feel President Snow's gaze on us all night and I'm sure Madge feels it too.

Not once do I let go of her hand.

Not even when other people ask to dance. With her. With me. We politely reject their offers and sway to music that fails to impress me. I guess nothing can beat the fiddle and whistle from the Seam. When I share this with Madge she almost demands I take her to a Seam dance. I promise her I will.

Madge and I spend most of our time talking to Cinna and Portia about clothing. She tells me the food to eat considering she's had most of it at sometime in her life, that way we skip the ones that don't meet her standards. We try the new things together.

And when Madge's prep team offers us a little vial to make more room in our stomach, Madge refuses immediately. "We'd never want a thing like that," she nearly snaps.

I shrug as her team walks away unaffected by the bitter tone Madge had when they offered. They must be too high on the fact that they've finally been invited to a big wig Capitol party. The music starts up again and I pull her onto the dance floor. Cameras follow us, as do eyes, but it's only me and her.

"What was that about?" I inquire. She seemed offended, almost angry that they would give us something like that. "I'd like a bit more space in my stomach." The food here is incredible, probably the best thing of the night. I'd love to wrap some up and take it home to my family.

"Not like that," Madge murmurs. I tighten my grip around her waist and she rests her head against my chest. "It makes you throw up so you can eat more." Her words stun me to silence, and I'd freeze up if I didn't know we were being watched. "I can tolerate some things. The way they paraded around my father's house like they owned the place," she shudders a bit and again I make firm my hold. "The giant plates of food and dirty dishes they leave. But I can't… I can't comprehend the fact that they'll eat until they're full and puke it all up just to do it again. I can't. Not while District's are starving to death."

"I get it," I whisper back.

"I've tried it," says Madge as she swallows thickly. "The vial. They made me back when I was younger." I knit my eyebrows and she shrugs. "We had to do whatever they wanted. We still do, to a degree."

I think of Cinna and Portia, trying to force myself to see the humanity in them. Capitol citizens are bubble headed freaks but they're still people. There's got to be more to them than being cruel and oblivious. I grit my teeth, "They're not all awful."

"You would've have said that a few months ago."

"I didn't know any of them a few months ago," I say. Portia isn't like them. She's smart. She's real.

Madge loosens her hands from behind my neck. "I've always known them," she tells me. "They've always made me sick."

I frown. "Even Cinna?"

And thankfully, she almost laughs. "Especially Cinna. Nearly burning me to death on our first encounter." And I laugh too.

Halfway through the night I make my way to the stage, the only time I don't have my hand in Madge's. I can see the confusion on her face in the crowd and I wonder if she really doesn't know what I'm doing. She should, it was half her idea. Haymitch told me so. The microphone is handed over to me and I meet her gaze.

Though I'm told I have charisma and am apparently good at speaking in front of crowds, my hands sweat. Maybe it's just what I'm about to do.

"Madge," I start slowly. Her lips tug upward and she rocks on her feet. "I need you to know that I love you." That I love her and I'd be doing this even if it weren't being forced upon us. I tell her the tale of how I fell for her in the arena, how it all came slowly and built up after awhile. The crowd oohs and ahhs and coos and awws just on time for each. I tell her of how I can't imagine my life without her, of how there's no one I'd rather be with.

And by the end of my speech I'm down on my knee and Madge's on the stage too. I hold out the ring and she accepts it. The golden ring with a ruby attached to it. Not my choosing. I hate the ring. I hate doing this. This forced marriage, this forced tale.

If I didn't know Madge was such a good actress I'd imagine she's tearing up because she wants this too. Because she loves me. But I know better than that.

The crowd applauds and cheers for their latest Victors. They scream and I slip the ring onto her finger. She presses her lips against mine. The crowd doesn't quit their noise but it all goes mute to me. I savor the feel of her lips, the gentle balance she brings to everything. When she falls to her knees to deepen the kiss and we nearly stumble over I laugh and feel her smile against my lips.

But I know it means nothing to her.

* * *

Once we're given clearance to leave, the Capitol still in an uproar over our engagement, Madge slips into her room on the train before I can stop her. I suppose I should allow her the silence, the time to think, but I don't really want to give it to her.

Portia reads me like a book, however, and rests her hand on my back, shaking her head once and signaling for me to wait. Give her some air. And still, I don't want to.

I resolve for showering off the grime of the Capitol and switching into nighttime clothes before knocking on her door. The water is hot as it pounds my back and eases my never ending headache. It's been a constant throb for days now. Portia says it's stress. Haymitch says it can be solved with a drink.

I think watching makeup and glitter wash down the drain is a much better stress reliever. For now.

Once I've changed and start crossing the hall to Madge's room I hear a shattering of some sort of glass. The sound sends me into a panic and I quicken my pace, bursting into her room without even knocking.

Madge sits on the floor near the fireplace sobbing into her hands. Across the room is a shattered plate that must've come with room service of sorts. Her bed is askew. Feathers float around the room having been stolen from their pillows; the sheets are all over the floor. Clothes are ripped from every drawer; some are yanked out and on the floor as well. From where I stand I can see that the bathroom is a wreck, too.

"Madge," I stride across the room and lower myself next to her. "Madge, look at me." I reach for her chin but she yanks herself from my grip instantly.

"Don't touch me," she whimpers as she scoots in the other direction. "Don't touch me! This is all lies! All of this!"

"Madge," I whisper harshly in attempt to get her to lower her voice. "Keep your voice down."

"Take your stupid ring back," she pleads as she pulls it from her finger. "I don't want it, not like this. Please. _Please_." Her hand shakes as she holds it out to me. Her mascara is running down her cheeks, her makeup smeared desperately across her face. "Gale, please take it," she says.

"No." I crawl after it and force it back onto her finger despite her attempts to shove me away. "Let me talk, Madge. Let me," I grunt in frustration as she claws across my face. My hands go for her wrists and I hold them above her head, un-amused at her outburst. "Stop it," I growl.

Her chin quivers but she stops resisting. "I just want you to r-really love me," she chokes. I lower her wrists and she wipes under her eyes.

"I do," I tell her. "Maybe not to the point of marriage, not yet, but that doesn't mean I don't love you." Madge's eyebrows knit together confusedly as she tries to hold my gaze. "I love you, Madge. Not because they want me to but because I do. Sure, it didn't build up like I said it did, it just hit me. Right before we got on stage together after the Games," I grab her face in my hands, desperate to make her understand. "It knocked the wind out of me when I realized it," I tell her.

"Don't l-_lie_ to me," she pleads.

I shake my head and drop my hands, fumbling around for my pocket. Once I realized I've changed out of my dress clothes from the night I hold up a finger. "Wait here." Confusion sweeps her face and before she can respond I rush back to my room. Thankfully my clothes are still on the floor and I scramble for the treasure I've kept hidden in my pocket. It's still there, and I rush back to Madge's room with it cradled in my hands.

She's lifted her knees and rests against them, and she's wiped away some of her makeup.

"Here," I lower myself to one knee and hold out a ring. My mother's ring. The real ring I wanted to give her. "Madge, I love you." Again the confusion returns to her face. "This is the ring my dad proposed with," I say. "He led my mother out to the meadow and got down on one knee and I wanted to the same for you, but we don't have that luxury." She sniffles once and wipes at her eyes again. "I want to marry you. I wanted to do it on my own terms, sure, but it isn't changing the fact that I wanted to do it."

"Gale—"

"And I wanted to fall in love with all of you, not just the general. I wanted to fall in love with, with your smiles that you use with Effie when you're annoyed and every different laugh you have but I don't have time to do that. But _I still love you_. I still can fall in love with all of you, I'm still going to." Madge crawls across the floor to me and searches my eyes, trying to find even the smallest lie in them. "And if you love me like you say you do, like everyone says you do, then you'll believe me. Then you'll marry me."

She swallows tightly and her eyes lower to the ring. It doesn't meet Capitol standards by any measure; I'm surprised there's even still a jewel in it. A silver band, a simple blue gem. It feels like the only thing I've got left to my name.

"Will you marry me, Madge?"

"Where… where would I wear the ring?" I can't help but chuckle as she takes the ring into her own hand, hovering it over each finger as to find one that would make sense.

"We could get you a necklace," I say. "If you want it. The ring."

She nods frantically and sniffles again. "Of course I want it, you idiot." I laugh again as she lunges toward me, her hands tight behind my neck. "I'll marry you," she murmurs, "as long as we do it like we would in District 12."

Lowering my forehead to hers I crack another smile. "Fair enough."

Her hand without the ring reaches up for my face, her fingers dap at my cheek. "I scratched you," she frowns. It stings at her touch and she uses her sleeve to wipe the small bit of blood that's been building up. "I'm sorry." I shake my head until she stops focusing on the cut. Her eyes search mine as I close the distance between us. My nose trails against Madge's and her fingers knot in my hair. "I love you," she whispers.

And when I dip down to press my lips against hers, it feels like the first time I've ever kissed her.

* * *

_A/N: Shorterish chapter, but at least it's a chapter. There's probably oodles of grammar mistakes but I wanted to post this before Hurricane Sandy stole my power. If you find any errors lemme know! Thanks for reading! c:_


	36. Chapter 36

The train jolts and shifts me awake, but when I roll onto my side I notice Madge is still sleeping. Her body is warm against mine and she tightens her grip around my chest lightly. I can't help but smirk, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her breath comes out in soft pants, reassuringly comforting. It's been awhile since either of us have had nightmares.

We'll be home in a bit, back to District 12 where we'll prepare a wedding and wait for the Quarter Quell and learn to mentor, all of which I'm not looking too forward to. District 12, where we'll try to stay quiet, remain to ourselves. I know it won't happen. The Capitol is intrusive.

"Gale," Madge's voice comes out in a sleepy murmur. "We there?"

"Not yet."

She lets out a sigh of some sort of relief and again tightens her grip around me. "I don't wanna be there."

Her old house. Her old life and memories. Her cruel father. More cameras. A celebration neither of us want to attend.

"You'll be alright," I tell her, allowing my hand to find her back and trace circles on her skin. "This is the last event we have to attend and then we're free. At least for a bit." She grunts in response and I lower my mouth down to her ear. I whisper, "If we get through it I'll take you to a traditional Seam party, yeah?" She smiles and nods as I kiss her neck. "Good."

Just as her breathing starts to even out again and I know she's falling back asleep, Effie chooses to bang on our door. Madge outwardly groans and buries her face in the pillows.

"Wakey wakey, you two! Madge, darling, you have to get ready!" I can't help but laugh as Madge painstakingly rolls out from under our covers without complaint. The look on her face is pure annoyance, but I'm sure the moment she sees Effie it'll morph into elation. "Madge! You have—" Effie takes a step backwards as Madge opens the door. "There you are." She's gotten much more comfortable with the idea of Madge staying with me, unfortunately "Chop chop! We've got no time to waste! District 12 is on the horizon, and…" our escort's voice trails off as the two make it down the hallway.

Knowing I won't be able to fall back asleep I throw the covers off and climb out of bed too. Quickly I throw on a shirt and make my way out to the dining cart where Haymitch sits eating breakfast. I mutter a good morning and he grunts in response. He probably isn't too excited to be going back to District 12 either. Or maybe he is. Haymitch isn't really one for words.

"Effie said the wedding will be in about a year," Haymitch says noncommittally. "It takes a lot to plan a thing like this."

"Alright."

"And chances are that Madge'll have her wedding dress voted on, she won't get to chose."

I frown but shrug. Of course she won't get a say in this. "Whatever has to happen."

I take some toast and bacon from the trays and a train assistant pours me a glass of orange juice. I don't want to eat too much because I'm nervous the sight of our coal covered District will bring it all back up. Then again it might be nice to see home, especially compared to some of the more guarded Districts we've been to lately.

"The whole thing will be recorded," Haymitch continues. "Broadcasted live."

"Sorry Abernathy," I grunt as I spread butter across my toast, "but I don't really care about any of this."

"Well you should," Haymitch snaps. His voice drops as he says, "At least _pretend_ like you do."

Quickly I spurt out, "I mean the details." My eyes lift until I find a nearby Capitol assistant, pretending like they're not listening but clearly doing just that. "All I care about is the fact that I get to marry her. I'm not big on planning." Haymitch quirks his eyebrows and a sly smirk slips onto his face indicating that I made a nice save. "And as long as there's a toasting I'll survive."

"Wouldn't be a District 12 wedding without one," the drunk cheers.

We continue breakfast with small talk considering it's hard to have a serious conversation when we know someone's always listening. Madge joins us shortly and I find that she's only slightly made up. She tells me that her final look will be completed in her old house, in her old bedroom.

I know by the way she says it that she isn't excited to return to her house. She'll have to see her father. I can only imagine what sort of terrible memories she has there. I'm sure there's some good ones too, of course, but in a time like this...

"Isn't it exciting?" Effie trills and takes the seat next to Haymitch. "Finally going home! And Madge gets to spend some time in her old house, isn't that fantastic?"

"I just can't wait to see my mother," Madge says brightly. I had forgotten all about Mrs. Undersee. Madge probably hasn't seen her since she got home, now that I think of it. "It's been a very long time."

When we reach District 12 she's whisked off before I even get to say another word to her. Cameras are constantly on us and I smile and wave, trying to make it evident that it's strange to not have Madge at my side.

Which it is. Especially when cameras are present. We made a deal to never let go of each other's hand.

Portia finds me rather quickly and pulls me off to a different room to get ready, assembling me in some Capitol worthy suit that was tailored to fit me and only me. She leaves the bit of scruff I've grown from the trip home and tells me it make me look "manly".

"If you say so," I mutter as I rub at it. I'm mostly just too lazy to shave it off on my own. Sort of reminds me of my dad. She smoothes my dress shirt and smiles before pulling on the jacket. "Do you have the pin?"

"Course I do," Portia laughs. "I'm entrusted with it whenever you're not wearing it, or happen to just throw it on the ground when you change." Quickly the golden bird is attached to my pocket and she smiles. "I think it completes the look."

Again I mutter, "If you say so."

She taps my cheek quickly and then glances over her shoulder. "Madge should be ready if you'd like to go find her." Her eyes glisten as I smile and then she pulls open the door for me, allowing me to sneak through the mayor's house.

My opinion of Mayor Undersee has been changed immensely due to the knowledge that he hits his daughter and I don't feel guilty as I parade through various halls. The place is huge. Just because I sold strawberries to the Undersee family doesn't mean I was ever inside. The vast expanse of the entire house has me overwhelmed.

I make it to the second floor with ease and hear a beeping coming from one of the rooms and my curiosity gets the best of me.

With a quick glance I peer through a cracked door. I watch images quickly flashing across a screen as the words "UPDATE ON DISTRICT 8" appear. I throw a look over my shoulder before tiptoeing into the room a bit more, careful not to let the floorboards squeak below me.

There's someone on the screen that doesn't exactly fit the definition of a Capitol citizen. She looks older, more important than the newscasters that are usually on the television.

She speaks of something called a Level 3 and says that all production of textiles has stopped. I squint and take another step closer as images from the square in District 8 flicker on the screen. Mobs, fires, screaming people in rags to hide their faces. Peacekeepers shoot and kill at random.

This can't be the rebellion Madge wants.

As a sudden panic sweeps through my system I exit back into the hallway. Just in time, too, because Mayor Undersee pads up the stairs and catches me.

"Were you in there?" he asks coldly.

I jerk my head into a no and say, "I'm looking for Madge."

His expression softens for a moment, and then he takes another one to glance over my appearance. With a quick nod he points down the hall. "She's with her mother. You can go in."

It takes more willpower than I thought necessary to grit out, "Thank you, sir."

"Now if you'll excuse me," he gestures toward his office and I nod, waiting until he closes the door to find Madge.

I distance myself from the images of District 8 as quickly as I can, wondering if this is good or bad. I weigh the pros and cons. Pros are that things are changing. People aren't being quiet anymore. Cons are death. Lots and lots of death of innocent people. Maybe another bombing like District 13. The thought makes me shudder.

But if death is what it takes to get a free Panem, am I willing to pay that price? Will I pay with my own life or sit back and let everyone else do it?

I decide that if this is how it's going to be, if the uprising is going to happen in mobs with random citizens dying just for their basic rights, then I need to help. I can't let Madge do any of this alone, I can't let Districts fight without knowing what they're doing.

They need a leader. Maybe two.

I resolve to tell Madge of this later tonight once all is said and done. To insist to help. But the thought fades as I reach her mother's room.

"No, no," Madge's voice is soft and pitiful. "I really do miss you, Mommy." I feel awful standing in the doorway and listening but I'm not sure I have the courage to intervene now. I have no idea what they've been talking about. "I'm sorry it wasn't Maysilee that came home."

"Don't say that," her mother responds. The voice of Mrs. Undersee is deep and pained. "I'm so happy you came home. So happy, Madgey. I'm just sorry you had to do those awful things."

"I did it for you," she chokes out. "So I could come home to you and you wouldn't have to lose anyone again. Please, don't hate me."

"I never could. I never could." My heart clenches and I slowly reach forward, knocking on the door frame gently. "Who's there?"

"Gale Hawthorne, ma'am," I say as sturdy as I can. "May I come in?"

Her voice is no longer pained as she calls out, "Oh, yes!" I peer through the crack in the door into the dim room before pushing it open. The lights must be lowered due to Mrs. Undersee's headaches that I've heard about. I pretend not to notice as Madge wipes under her eyes with the back of her hands. "Madgey, introduce me!"

A wet laugh escapes the blonde as I move forward, taking the spot next to her by the side of the bed. "Momma, this is Gale," she says. "My fellow Victor."

"Your fiancé," she corrects with a weak smile.

I've never seen Mrs. Undersee from this close. She looks fragile, tiny, very breakable. Her condition must be worse than the rumors that float around the mines. I know she uses morphling on the daily to stop her headaches but they seem to have sucked all of the life from her. Perhaps Madge being in the Games has made everything just that much more terrible.

I extend my hand and lightly grab hers, pulling it in some sort of shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Undersee."

"Call me Marge," she responds. "Or Mom." I laugh as her hand falls limp. "I've wanted to meet you ever since you returned home! Madgey here always tells me that you're busy, and I suppose you should be considering you're a Victor and all." The elder looks toward her daughter and smiles. "She's so lucky to have you."

Unsure of what to say I force out, "I'm lucky to have _her_." Mrs. Undersee laughs softly and I swallow back my nerves. "Are you going to the celebration?"

"No," the woman responds sadly, "not today. I'll get to watch it though," she gesture to the television in front of her.

"That's alright, Mommy," Madge says and squeezes her mother's hand. "We can stay here if you'd like."

"No, no," she shakes her head. "You have people waiting to congratulate you." Mrs. Undersee turns back to me and smiles again. "I want to know more about you, Gale, considering you'll be marrying my daughter here soon."

Again I laugh. How can I not? "Ask me anything."

And so she does. She asks about my family and I tell her of my siblings. She asks about my father and I tell her of my death. She learns my favorite songs to dance to, my favorite tea, my favorite book. Questions I'd think have no real importance but she asks them anyway and I happily answer. Every once in awhile I'll look up and catch Madge smiling, which only compels me to answer the questions more in detail.

"I just have one more question," she says softly.

"Sure, anything."

Her eyes lower to the golden Mockingjay I have latched to my jacket. "Where did you get that pin?"

I swallow once and quickly glance toward Madge. "I gave it to him, Mommy," she answers calmly. "To keep him safe during the Feast."

"And did it? Keep you safe?"

My tongue flops in my mouth so I nod before I speak. "Yes. It did."

Mrs. Undersee smiles weakly. "Good."

I force another smile and listen as Madge lets out a deep breath of air. My hands are sweating but Madge laces hers with mine anyway, giving me a quick squeeze.

As I go to say something else, something I haven't even thought through, Cinna knocks on our door. "Come on, you two," he says. "It's time to go."

"One minute," Madge calls back.

"Second," he responds. She sticks her tongue out at him and he responds with a funny face before winking and strolling away from the room.

"It was really nice to meet you Mrs. Undersee," I say. "It's not often I get to talk with Madge's family." Not often I see the other aspects of her life. I love getting to unravel another layer of her.

"I said call me Marge," the woman huffs, but smiles as well. "It was great to meet you too. The pair of you should stop by, it isn't often I get visitors."

"We will," I answer before Madge gets the chance. I glance down into my fiancée's eyes and watch a tiny smile slip onto her face. She waves me toward the door and I nod, knowing she needs a moment alone with her mother. I press a quick kiss to her nose before exiting the room. "Bye again," I call over my shoulder.

"See you," her mother calls back. I wait outside in the hall for Madge to join me, listening to her goodbye to her mother though I know I probably shouldn't. "He's a nice boy," she says. "I like him a lot."

"Me too," Madge responds. I can't help but smile to myself at this. "I love you, Mommy."

"I love you too, Madge. I always will."

A few moments later Madge joins me out in the hallway, pulling her mother's door shut behind her. In the brighter light that surrounds us I finally get a good look at her and don't hesitate to pull her toward me. A full length silver dress that brings out her eyes ever so brightly, her hair tumbling down her shoulders in precious curls. I press a kiss to her as fast as I can.

"Beautiful," I murmur, feeling her smile against my lips.

Her hands run up my jaw and she laughs against my mouth. "Since when are you allowed scruff?"

"Since today, apparently," I say with a laugh, too. I lower my forehead to hers and glance at the thin silver chain that hangs around her neck, disappearing down her chest instead of resting on the outside.

Noticing my gaze she stands on her tiptoes, giving me another kiss. "Cinna said I could wear it as long as no one else saw it."

"How considerate," I snort. She smiles and reaches for my hand, pulling me toward the staircase. "I've gotta tell you something," I say before we reach the stairs. "I saw something."

"Not here," she says quietly. "Now smile, we have a crowd to impress."

With a groan I allow her to drag me down the stairs, and then we're being swamped in flashing lights. I'll tell her tomorrow. How much can one day hurt?

* * *

_A/N: I wanted to make Mrs. Undersee a bit more gentle and loving than Mr. Undersee. How'd you think she was? I like to think she'd be happy that Maysilee's pin ended up saving someone. The bit about District 8 came right from Catching Fire. Hope you liked it, sorry for the wait!_


	37. Chapter 37

I feel like I never get enough sleep. I wake up and I'm still tired. I carry through the days tired with a headache. No matter how long I spend in bed I'm always tired.

Madge seems to notice it, too. She tells me to sleep in but I don't see the point. I'll just be tired later on.

"If you want to sleep then _sleep_," she stresses. But I can't, not without her next to me. Or the nightmares will come back.

So we carry on through life. I told Madge about District 8 the day after the party at the mayor's house but she didn't seem to think it was that important. She never seems to think the important things are actually important. Katniss, however, shows up one day in a frantic. She's shivering and limping and runs into the house without even knocking.

"I need to talk to you," she demands instantly. I look up toward Madge who instantly excuses herself from the room.

"I'll get you something warm to drink," Madge decides. Katniss can only nod, continuing to shiver. She goes into the kitchen where my family is, most likely to keep them in there while she prepares Katniss' drink. They don't need to busy themselves in every little thing that we do.

I lead Katniss to the fireplace and make sure she sits carefully. Once she's comfortable atop a head of pillows I sit down next to her. "What's up? What happened? You look like death."

"The fence is on," she chokes out. Her words shock me into silence, I narrow my eyes in her direction. Why would the fence be on? I don't even _remember _the last time the fence was on. "I went out hunting and when I came back I almost…" Katniss shakes her head, her braid swaying back and forth. Her bangs stick to her forehead from sweat and snow. She looks tired. "I climbed a tree, landed funny on the other side. It was the only way to get back over."

"Why didn't you go directly to your mom?" I snap. The walk all the way out here to Victors Village is probably triple the length it would take to get to her house! "You're only hurting yourself more, Katniss! What if you've broken something?"

"Because I need to tell you something else, Gale," she says, dropping her voice. "There were people in the woods."

"What do you…" I trail off as Madge returns, slipping a glass of hot tea into Katniss' hands. Madge excuses herself again and I turn back to Katniss. "What do you mean?"

"They were from 8," she tells me. "They told me this story… no," Katniss frowns. "It wasn't a story. It actually happened. They told me about their District. Said there were factory explosions and it killed people they knew, people they loved." Katniss sips on the tea and shudders as it goes down her throat. "I think District 8 is trying to rebel."

Trying.

Succeeding? Failing?

"But I don't… I can't figure out what's happening," Katniss says. "Nothing's making sense. Why would the District's be rebelling? They say others are doing it too and… there was something else too."

"Well what is it?"

"District 13." I frown as she fidgets, trying to find the proper words to say. "They think District 13 is real, it all has to do with the video clip they always show. They say that there's a mockingjay in the corner or something, I don't remember they spoke too fast." The look on her face is hopeful. Like she wants to believe that District 13 is still there.

And I might want to believe it too.

I silence Katniss quickly and tell her everything I know. How there shouldn't be two Victors and Madge's mockingjay pin is more than a token, how apparently it's a symbol of uprising, which would help to support the District 13 theory. I tell her about what I saw in Mayor Undersee's office. She sits quietly the whole time.

"Why didn't you tell me any of that before?" she grumbles. "I thought we were best friends, Gale."

"I'm not supposed to know half the stuff I do, why would I risk you too?" I frown and drop my head into my hands. "For all I know something could happen to you or Prim. I have to do whatever they want just in case, Catnip."

A few moments later Madge comes back into the room, this time with a blanket. She wordlessly places it over Katniss' shoulders and then once again is out of the room.

"At least you're with Madge," Katniss says quietly. "Not with somebody you couldn't stand or something." She scoots a bit closer to the fire and sighs. "Will you tell me next time?"

"I would've told you sooner if I had thought you'd be interested."

Katniss isn't one for rebellions or uprisings. She hated whenever I ranted about the Capitol. Whenever I talked about running away. How was I supposed to know she'd want to know more?

"You know," I say softly, "Thom's throwing a party in the Seam this weekend." Katniss frowns. "C'mon, Catnip! I'm _home_. I'm home for _good_, you should come. Make some friends. Maybe bring Mellark." At the mention of Peeta her face turns pink.

"Parties in the Seam are always shut down my peacekeepers," she mutters. "Plus we just got that new head peacekeeper and he's a bit more strict than Cray." Katniss shifts uncomfortably and sighs. I keep forgetting that she's probably still in pain. I'm sure that I've got some sort of pain reliever here…

Just as I go to stand and get something from the medicine cabinet Madge comes out with two little yellow pills. She hands them to Katniss and says, "For the pain. It won't heal you but it'll make it stop hurting until your mother can fix you up."

Katniss smile and accepts the pills. "Thanks, Madge." And then Madge is gone again. Katniss dry swallows the pills and sighs. "I'll think about this weekend." A second later she takes a sip from the cup of tea and sighs. "I don't hate her. Madge. I really don't."

"She knows that."

"Does she?" Katniss drinks the rest of the tea and then sets the cup on the floor. She tightens her blanket around her. "She was scary to watch in the Games," Katniss murmurs. "I thought she'd be scary here, too, but she's still… she's the same girl who sat with me at lunch. Just maybe a bit more important."

"She's coming this weekend. You can talk to her then."

So finally, Katniss agrees.

* * *

Being a Victor has its perks, that's no lie. I have nicer clothes, I have food, I have running water. But nothing the Capitol can give me will _ever_ compare to the joy and pure _happiness _that radiates from a Seam party. And nothing will be better than this feeling of being welcomed back with open arms.

Though I've been feeling sick from time to time ever since the Victory Tour, Portia even gave me medicine once, I decide to just have fun. Madge is nervous at first but the Seam is loving, forgiving. And once they see her with me they don't really have a choice otherwise.

Haymitch even decided to come out, which is strange. His roots grow here, sure, but he doesn't talk about his past life much. He's spent a lot of time in the Hob anyway so I'm sure he knows a lot of people.

"It's so loud," Madge calls out to me with a smile. People play instruments off to the side. The fiddle, the flute, the whistle. Anything that will make a pleasant noise.

"Wanna dance?"

She lifts her gaze to the people spinning round and round near those who play music. "I don't know how to dance like that!"

"C'mon, I'll teach ya!" I drag her to the dancers before she can protest, a smile bright and lovely on her face.

We deserve a bit of happiness, don't we?

As I guide Madge through the steps of each difference dance spinning faster and faster and laughing louder and louder, I feel home again. I finally feel like I'm really, truly home.

I see Thom somewhere with some girl laughing and drinking something out of a flask. Haymitch is drinking a flask too but off somewhere else. And finally, I see Katniss with Peeta. She looks more out of place than he does; Peeta seems overly excited to actually be here. He points us out and Katniss eventually smiles, though it's weak. Madge sees them too and waves, squeezing herself out of my grip instantly and running over to them as fast as she can.

I'm left frozen for a moment, watching her stride right up as if they're all still best friends. I mean I suppose she is with Mellark but when she waltzes right up to Katniss I'm not sure what to expect.

From where I stand I can't hear them but Madge says a few words to Peeta, and then to Katniss. Peeta lifts his gaze to me and strolls over, leaving Madge and Katniss alone near the outskirts of the crowd. He takes his spot next to me and we slip away from the people who dance, not wanting to get in their way.

"So she actually brought you," I say.

Peeta laughs, "I practically _begged_ her to bring me. I've always heard about Seam parties but never been." The blonde grins from ear to ear and spins around. "They're very loud!"

I laugh too, "That they are."

I wonder if Peeta knows that most Seam parties end in disaster. And just as I go to tell him that but admit I'm feeling pretty good about this one, someone screams.

Peeta clamps his lips shut and we both spin around back to facing the edge of the crowd. Those farthest from us start running but the ones too close to the edge near the peacekeepers aren't quick enough.

I don't remember the last time a party was shut down so quickly. Perhaps talks of rebellion really are changing how the Capitol looks at everything. Katniss did say there was a new head peacekeeper.

They march. The peacekeepers march in rows of ten straight toward us. Some have shields, some have bats, and others have flares.

Peeta lunges toward them screaming, "Katniss!" Before I can step forward and hold him back he's darting through the crowd after her. "Katniss!"

Katniss has never been to a Seam party before. Never like this. Never seen the brutality up close. Not only that but she's most likely still broken and sore from falling from a tree to get over the fence. And she's frozen. She's frozen in place as the peacekeepers reach her.

I start moving toward them too but I'm not fast enough. Madge grabs her shirt and pulls her backwards, dodging the first peacekeeper that raises their bat at them. One of them throws in a smoke bomb and in minutes the entire area is filled with a gray haze.

"Madge!" Finally reality sinks in and I start running, sprinting toward where I last saw her. "Madge!"

"Gale!" I trip and fall to the ground. "Ouch," she grunts. I try to wave the smoke away but it's overly difficult. Fumbling around on the ground I try to find her, and once I do I grab her and scoop her into my arms. "I'm alright!" she insists, but she was so _close_ to them that I don't believe her.

And then I hear Katniss scream. Something I've never heard, which is why it shocks me. "_Peeta!"_

I clamber to the outside of the smoke with Madge in my arms and deposit her where she can get a breath of fresh air. She's covered in soot and her cheek is red. "I'm going back for Peeta and Katniss just get to the Everdeen's!"

"Gale!"

"Just go!"

"_Peeta_! Stop hurting him!"

The smoke is stronger toward the peacekeepers and I still can't see a thing. I wave it away and follow the sound of Katniss' voice. When I find Mellark he's on the ground, beaten and bloody. Without hesitation I throw the person on top of him away and toss him over my shoulder. Katniss is somewhere around there and I grab her too, forcing her to follow me.

"Oh, God," Katniss is practically in tears, I've never seen her this broken. She finds Madge and then calls for us to follow her.

Some people behind us still scream, others cough as they run from the smoke. Katniss leads us through the twisting turns of the Seam until we reach her house, she throws the door open immediately.

"Mom," she calls out. "Mom, I need you."

And that's how I know it's serious. Katniss will never admit to needing her mother.

Mrs. Everdeen stumbles out of the backroom and points to the table. "Lay him there," she says as she washes her hands. As I gently try to lay Peeta down on the table I hear him grunt in pain. "What happened?"

"Peacekeepers," Madge says. "We were at the party."

Mrs. Everdeen frowns, I know she doesn't look fondly upon Seam parties. A few moments later Prim emerges from the backroom, rubbing her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Peeta got hurt," Katniss says, lowering herself to a chair by the table and grabbing his hand.

"Prim, honey, can you help?" Mrs. Everdeen asks her daughter. Instantly the small blonde is awake, rushing over to the wash her hands as well. "I need some space," she says to Katniss, only Katniss doesn't move.

It's times like this in which I realize how much Katniss has changed. Perhaps it's from me being in the Games, or maybe she's always been like this I just hadn't noticed. She's not the little girl I first met in the woods anymore. She used to run from blood and now here she sits in the same room, refusing to leave. She used to be afraid of love and she tells herself she still is, yet the way she won't leave his side gets me thinking something else.

Madge laces her fingers with mine and pulls me from the kitchen over to the couch, though my eyes still linger in their direction. She forces me to sit on the couch and sighs.

I finally turn my attention to her, the busted lip I hadn't realized she had. I cup her cheek and she frowns, trying to pull away from me. "I'm fine, Gale I'm—"

"I'm sorry," I cut her off. She shakes her head and offers a smile, only I can't return it. "Why can't we every have anything good?"

"We have each other," she murmurs.

And I want to kiss her. I want to kiss Madge so badly only that might not be the most comfortable thing for her with her lip the state it's in. I can't offer much assistance either, I'm no medic. We'll just have to wait until Mrs. Everdeen is done with Peeta.

But long before that their front door swings open and in marches Haymitch, livid as possible. He doesn't knock, he only strides right over to us. "You two. With me. Now."

"Abernathy," I start. There are so many reasons we need to stay. Madge needs her lip fixed and we need to know if Peeta will be okay and…

"No, Hawthorne. I went _nuts_ looking for you two out there!"

Before I can say anything else Madge stands, looking a bit guilty. Even when someone else is hurt it has to be about us. Why can't we just be left alone? She glances in Katniss and Peeta's direction and smiles as gently as she possibly can. Katniss sends the smile back.

Madge looks down toward me and I eventually stand too. I want to say I'm sorry for what happened but the look on Katniss' face tells me I don't need to. I feel like it is, though. I suggested she bring Peeta. I suggested she come at all. She'll never look at it that way, though. I know her well enough to know that. I wave and she waves back. I know that she'll tell me how Peeta is later. Hopefully she's okay too.

The second we're out in the brisk night, shivering from the snow that's on the ground and the wind that whips around us, Haymitch starts shouting at us.

"For Christ's _sake_ Princess, you've got wedding pictures this week! What the hell am I supposed to tell them now that you've got a bloody lip? And Hawthorne, what's gotten into you? Going into a Seam party like that! You know what happens at them!"

"So do you," I grunt, "and you went."

"That's a bit _different_. Public gatherings of more than five people are _not _fondly looked upon by the Capitol, especially in a time like this!"

"Save it, Haymitch," Madge sighs. She slows down to keep her pace even with mine and twines our fingers together. "I made him promise that he'd bring me to one. It's not his fault it's mine."

"Take all the blame, Princess, sure," Haymitch grumbles as he moves through the Seam.

We're almost to Victors Village when I flinch, a spike of pain running up through my head. "Gale," Madge squeeze my hand and makes me slow down. "Are you okay?"

Haymitch frowns, "Good lord, did you get hit on the head, or something?"

"I'm fine, nothing happened."

"You look like you're going to pass out," Madge insists. She goes from pausing to quickening her pace. "Let's get you inside."

"I just have a headache," I tell her. "I think I'm getting sick, that's all."

And by the time we get me inside I'm perfectly fine again. Just a spike of pain was all it was. Madge makes me take some pills for my head and my mom cleans up her lip. Haymitch forbids us from every attending another party in the Seam.

And I go to bed, though all I really want to do is wake up.

* * *

_A/N: I'm really bad at updating this story :c I have the whole plot in my head but never want to write it out because it's so nice in my head and grrr. I don't know. I know the story sounds sort of fast and choppy but there's a reason for that which will be revealed in the end. Just stick with me I guess. Not only that but what Gale said about being sick in the Victory Tour was true, and it's also important! Just remember it. This chapter is probably one of the most important chapters in the long run._


	38. Chapter 38

Madge's prep team is apparently up in arms when they find her looking as though she just got out of a bar fight. I, sadly, cannot witness their meltdown first hand considering I'm not allowed to be in the same room as her, per Haymitch's instructions. Not only that but Cinna, according to Portia, needs his space when he's at work.

"You've got to worry about yourself," he told me the day after the party in the Seam. "There're more important things than Madge such as, I don't know, your family?"

I roll my eyes and stick to sulking in my house.

I suppose I should listen to him, however, considering that he's lost his. I don't ask how. Don't really want to know.

Katniss stops by to tell me that Peeta's recovering nicely. He still flinches when he walks but it doesn't look like there's any internal damage. Peeta even gets to use a cane to get around. He's just a bit bruised but he insists it's nothing he can't handle. "He's had worse," is all Katniss says to me. I don't stop to wonder what she means.

She stays the rest of the day, actually, saying she'll leave before dinner. Katniss refuses to eat at my house without Prim so I guess I can't blame her. While Katniss is busy talking to my mom I creep over to Rory and tell him to sneak off and find Prim, bring her over for dinner. He agrees with a wink before scurrying off out into the Seam to retrieve her.

Katniss hangs off the porch and stares out into the backyard. Neatly trimmed. My mom planted some flowers back there but it's not much of a space. Doesn't constitute as the woods no matter how many purple and pink flowers she plants, or how many trees she starts to grow.

I turn to Katniss who finds herself very invested in the layout of the space before her. "So are you and Peeta…" I trail off, unsure of how to ask. "Are you two a thing?"

"No," Katniss shakes her head. I don't know if I should press anymore into the topic so I just let that hang in the air for a minute. She has never been one for these sorts of conversations and having them with me is probably in the back of her mind at the moment. "He wants to be."

"But you don't."

"It's not that I don't want to," she grumbles. "It's just that I feel like I _can't_." She drums her fingers over the railing and sighs. "He's too _good_, Gale."

"And you're not?"

"Not for him," she says. "Besides, I'm not…" Katniss furrows her eyebrows. Watching Katniss battle her internal conflicts used to be sort of entertaining, now it's just painful. "I'm not ready for that."

"Then don't push yourself," is all I can say.

"I feel like everyone else is doing just that, though," she continues with a struggle. "Like people expect us to be together and I can't give him that." I nudge her with my elbows and offer a sort of smile. A bit of hope. "The most I can offer him is… friends. Allies."

"Allies." I repeat the word slowly, testing it in my mouth. A strange word for the two but I make no comment. "Gotta start somewhere?"

"I guess."

As she goes to leave Rory shows up with Prim and Mrs. Everdeen and we successfully coax them into staying for dinner. My mom loves the company and Mrs. Everdeen seems to brighten at the opportunity to help with the cooking. They're friends, sort of. They apparently talked a lot when I was in the Games, though I can't imagine what about.

Dinner is usually silent when people are over but today Prim and Rory seem really excited about something they found out in the meadow so it keeps everyone talking.

Eventually Posy asks, "Where's Madge?"

"She had some wedding things to do," my mother responds lightly. "Remember? We were over there earlier, Posy."

"Oh, right," my little sister shakes her head and smiles like it's a fond memory. "Gale, she looked super pretty! I got to watch her play the piano before she got dressed up too! She was so good!"

I don't remember either of them telling me that they had been over there but I let it slide. It's not like they have to tell me everything they do, whether it'd be appreciated or not. Or maybe they did tell me and I just forgot due to the aching in the back of my head that never ceases to stop. And considering they were over there that means they spoke with Haymitch, who was busy making sure I stayed away. I guess the angle of Posy with Madge is a good one?

"She invited me and Katniss to help, didn't she?" Prim says brightly as she pushes around her food with her fork.

"Yeah," Katniss nods slowly. The two didn't really get a chance to talk at the party where Peeta got the crap beat out of him, so I guess things between them are still a little strained. I can't really blame either of them for that. "We had things to do though."

"Katniss said 'Maybe next time,'" Prim tells us with a smirk. "I said, 'You think Madge is going to be getting married again, then?'"

Everyone laughs and I let my mind wander to Madge in a wedding dress. Madge in a _wedding _dress. And then I start thinking about _Katniss_ in a wedding dress. Or Katniss in a relationship at all. And I wonder how Peeta would react to seeing Katniss in a wedding dress. And I wonder when we all grew up so fast.

My head aches to the point of dizziness so I excuse myself from the table. This has been happening a lot lately so my mother lets me go without question or concern. I pad over to the kitchen and throw open the window, letting the cool breeze sink in around me. For a minute I hear my name being called and I glance back into the dining room, but it appears that no one called for me. They chat amongst themselves about things I don't understand.

I make my way back toward the window for some more air when the phone rings on the wall. The sound still makes me jump, I never had a phone before winning and moving into this house, and the noise is unfamiliar. I call out to family that I've got it and then pull it from the hook.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Madge is on the other end. She's the only person I know that has a phone, besides Haymitch of course but I'm pretty sure he yanked his out of the wall. Effie keeps mumbling about getting it fixed but I've no idea if that has happened yet. "Were you eating?"

"Not really," I lean against the wall and readjust the coiled wire that spins from it. "What's up? You coming over?"

"Nah I think I'll stay here tonight," she says. "Besides, I don't think Haymitch would like if I disobeyed his orders."

I snort, "When have you ever cared what Haymitch had to say?"

I hear her shift on the other end as she laughs a bit. "Maybe it's best we just keep our distance for a bit."

"But then how will you sleep?" I spurt out quickly. The thought of losing Madge creeps through my veins and almost disorients me. What's with the sudden change of pace? "Did I do something?"

She laughs again, "No Gale. You didn't do anything. And I'll sleep fine, probably. I just think what Haymitch said is true, we should spend more time with our families." I let her words soak in for a moment before coming to the realization that she doesn't speak with her family.

"Madge—"

"Or, well, you need to spend more time with your family."

"I can do that with you around—"

"And I've been going over to my house when my dad's at work so I can see my mom, so really it all works out!" I sigh and rest my head against the wall. "I just _think_ that if we're going to be spending the rest of our lives together then we should spend some time apart from each other for a little bit."

"Cold feet?" I ask. Must be the wedding nerves. She did try on a thousand wedding dresses today after all.

"No. I just already feel like I'm intruding on your home and—"

"You _aren't_," I stress tiredly. My home basically _is_ her home and she needs to learn that. "You're being ridiculous, Madge."

"And then Peeta had to go get himself nearly killed at some party _I _wanted to go to and…" she trails off with a sigh. "I just think I need to be on my own for a bit."

"You're punishing yourself," I grumble, the thought not having processed until now. It's what she does. She punishes herself. She takes the blame for whatever happens whether it's her fault or not. And so I feel the need to stress, "What happened wasn't your _fault_, Madge!"

But this means nothing to her, apparently. She sighs loudly and the phone makes some sort of muffled rumble noise like she's shifting it from one shoulder to the other. Maybe she's preparing dinner or something. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, alright?"

"We didn't even get to talk about the wedding shoot—"

"Gale, it'll be on the TV tomorrow night," Madge says irritably. "And then I _promise_ we can talk about it. Wouldn't you rather actually see what the dresses look like before we talk about it? And then you'll actually know what dress I'm talking about instead of just trying to picture it in your head." I sigh again and her voice picks up a few pitches. "I _love_ you."

"Madge—"

"Goodnight. Get some sleep." But then the phone clicks. And I groan and hang my phone back on its hook before making my way back to dinner. My head hasn't stopped throbbing.

* * *

"Maybe you're dying," Rory suggests lightly as we all crowd the living room. Vick and Posy sink to the floor inches from the television and my mother scolds them that they're sitting too close. "You know. With some sort of brain cancer death thing."

"That isn't funny," my mother reaches over me and swats his head, considering she's on my left and he's on my right. "Gale isn't dying, I refuse to let that happen."

"Some things are out of your control, Ma," I mutter, rubbing at my temples. Their constant back and forth doesn't necessarily help at all. Ever. In any way shape or form. Sometimes I wish everyone would just shut up. Like nothing is ever silent. "Maybe it's stress," I groan. "Can't you just order some pretty pink pill for me to take and make them go away?"

"Pretty pink pill," Rory snorts. "I think those are used for _other_ things, Gale."

"How old are you, 12?" I shove him sideways and he falls off the couch with a laugh. "You aren't supposed to know those sorts of things! And you know what I meant!"

My mother frowns and narrows her eyes at me while Rory picks himself off the floor and takes his spot next to me again. She asks, "Do you want to become some drug addicted crazy man? I won't let you turn into one of those. Sooner or later you're going to wake up and your head will be perfectly fine!"

"Maybe, maybe not."

The TV suddenly flashes on and quits our bickering, and then there Madge is, looking lovely in all of her wedding dresses. They range from classic to elaborate, from long to short. My head is spinning as they roll through them all. Posy jumps up from the floor and shoves her finger in the direction of the TV.

"That one's my favorite!" she calls out. "That one!" The dress is indescribable, really. Strapless. Sparkly. Long and elegant. Madge smiles and blows kisses toward the camera like a proper TV star. I wish she was here now. "Doesn't she look like a princess, Gale? Oh, she looks like a princess!"

I nod in agreement, my mouth unable to find the words that I want to use. I study the pale sheen of her cheeks, the pink of her lips. The bruises she had are gone, the scrapes and cuts. She once again looks like the pristine daughter of the mayor that a year ago I'd never be able to get my hands on. She looks like a Victor. Or as Posy put it, a princess.

The dresses continue. My mother points out her favorite as well, a classic sleeved one that covers as much skin as possible. When I raise an eye in her direction she only shrugs.

"You're still my baby boy," mom tells me, reaching up and pinching my cheek.

Finally the dresses are done. I wonder which one was _her_ favorite. But then I remember it doesn't matter because we don't get to pick the dress, the Capitol picks the dress, like they control every other aspect of everything.

Still, looking at all of the dresses has made me dizzy; I can't even decide which one I liked best. A wedding. A marriage. A dress. The thought should be so uplifting, inspiring. It should be a time for rejoicing. But for some reason a foreboding sense fills the air. I don't think my family notices it for they laugh and chatter as usual, but it strikes me deep in my stomach.

I reach for the remote to flip the television off before the feeling overwhelms me but then Caesar is there, telling us to stay tuned for another big event. Because apparently news of a wedding isn't enough for one night.

"That's right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means it's time for our third Quarter Quell!"

The thought makes me sick. The Quarter Quell is like taking the Hunger Games and multiplying it by ten thousand, making it as awful as it could possibly be for anyone inside. For the viewers. For the tributes. It's different every time and I don't have the greatest feeling about this one.

"That isn't for months," my mother hums under her breath, letting her eyebrows crease. "But they _do_ always announce it early. I think. Strange they pick tonight."

I think back to my mother when she was younger. When she held hands with her family and prayed for the Quarter Quell to be bearable. The only one she lived through was the one that Haymitch won. I wonder if she remembers it. I wonder if she would talk about it if I asked.

"Ah, yes," she taps her forehead, "they're reading the card."

The anthem plays and Snow is on stage alongside a boy dressed in a white suit. I can't stop thinking about all the past Quarter Quells. How did Haymitch manage to win his? Why is there a Quarter Quell in the first place? Why do I have to be a mentor to the Quarter Quell tributes in my first year of being a Victor? How will I be able to handle this?

President Snow drones on and on about the Dark Days and the Hunger Games and all big important things that should matter to me. Despite shoving Rory around earlier he's still sitting next to me, and his warmth is somewhat reassuring. I throw my arm over his shoulder in support, considering he's the only Hawthorne who can currently be affected by any reapings.

Snow continues on about the Quell and the anniversary of it and the rebellion and never stops talking.

Though with the continued speech I should feel less and less panicked but the more he speaks the more my throat constricts. "On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it."

My mother shudders on the other side of me and I reach out and grab her hand. I wonder if Madge is still watching. If she's watching alone or has someone to hold her. Especially at the mention of…

"On the fiftieth anniversary," he continues, "as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes."

And this time _I _shudder. I think of Haymitch who had to face 47 tributes instead of 23. I think of Madge who lost her aunt, who wears a golden pin in remembrance of her. Neither should be alone right now but I'm betting everything I own that both of them are. I tighten my grip around Rory in fear of the words that Snow is about to say.

But there's really no use. And I know that before he even speaks. I can feel it.

"And now we honor our third Quarter Quell." I feel both relieved and sickened by this new feeling that washes over me. A foreboding, yes, and a continuous ache to my head, but no longer worry. The boy on stage lifts the box and opens the lid. Snow takes out the card labeled _75_ and pops open the envelope. "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

My mother shrieks. Rory turns up to look at me. But I'm frozen, my eyes locked on the TV as it fades to the Capitol emblem and then to black.

And they wait for me to respond. But I don't know how.

Because finally I realize that it's me or Haymitch. That I could go back into the Games. A 50/50 chance. But no matter what, it's going to be Madge. And there's nothing I can do to stop that.

* * *

_A/N: I suck at updating this sorry one and all enjoy it tho I guess? I don't know how many more chapters there will be, four or five maybe?_


	39. Chapter 39

My mother tries to get me to stay but my feet are quicker than hers and I'm out the door in moments. I can't think. Between the screams of my mother I hear pounding at my skull and the dark voice of President Snow repeating _existing pool of victors _over and over again I can't think. Not straight, not sideways, not at all.

I feel heavy. Like something is pressing down on me and I'm supposed to scream only I can't find my voice. Like I'm dreaming and I need to wake up from this God awful excuse of a nightmare. Like I'm drowning and I can't even see the shore from where I'm wading in the water.

I don't even bother knocking on Madge's door, I know she won't answer. I throw it open so hard that it rebounds and closes behind me after I march in. "Madge!" I scream her name. Has she left? Run out? "Madge!"

But I finally hear her sobs. The desperation and screaming that sounds much like my mother's, only more hopeless. I follow them to the living room, finding her on the floor in front of her television. And she hasn't accepted her fate. I hadn't expected her to. But I hadn't expected this either.

She's punched the glass of her television so it spiders. Bloody knuckles, cracked glass. The screen is static. I race to her side and drag her backwards, away from the announcement of our future. Her future. Knowing that there's nothing I can say or do. Nothing that will stop her from going back into the Arena.

She barely registers the fact that I'm here, only making a weak attempt to shove me away. "No, no…" she whimpers as I pull her into my grasp, refusing her to go anywhere. "I don't want to, _I can't_."

"Shhh…" I whisper, my hand stroking her hair. She collapses against my chest and cries. She cries until her throat is sore and she's out of tears. I fumble for the remote and hit the power button so the static stops. The only noise left is her heavy breathing. Madge's sniffles. When she pulls away from me her hand is still bleeding. I lift her up and lay her on the couch, telling her to wait for a moment.

"Don't go," she murmurs sleepily. Her eyes are rimmed in red. Voice muddled in exhaustion. "Gale, don't…"

"I'm just gonna get stuff to clean your hand," I whisper. It won't do her any favors to let it get infected. "I'll be right back." She nods and blinks back tears, allowing me to escape into the kitchen for a moment.

I take a breath. Stare at myself in the hazy reflection of the window. Tell myself to focus. Stop worrying about myself and worry about her. I can talk to Haymitch tomorrow. Or later. Or not at all. My vision swims.

I clutch the counter and dig through the drawer to find medical supplies before returning to Madge. She seems to have dozed off but when I reach her she blinks her eyes open. I take her hand into mine and pick out the glass carefully out of her knuckles. I should take her to a doctor. Or Mrs. Everdeen. Or someone who's better at this than me. She flinches as I tear out a sharp piece of glass and Madge hisses through her teeth.

"Sorry."

"My fault," she whimpers, shaking her head. "Just get it all out." I nod, cradling her hand gently in mine. She doesn't say anything the next time I reach for glass, or the next. Madge clenches her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut. She growls when I dab the antiseptic over her cuts. Cringes when I wrap it. But after a while she's alright again. For now.

"Let's go to my house," I whisper, gently pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's too quiet. This house is too big."

She protests, "Gale…"

"C'mon," I grab her wrists and pull her so she stands. "My bed is comfier than yours." She tries to smile but I watch her eyes fill with tears again. My hand slides around her waist as we make our way for the door.

* * *

Once Madge is asleep in my bed, covered in heaps of blankets with a nightlight off to the side, I make the descent back to the living room. My mother has put the kids to bed but I know she's still awake, pacing and pacing and pacing.

When I find her she pauses but doesn't turn to face me. She's in the kitchen, steading herself on the counter.

"I can't lose you," she says, shaking her head. "I lost your father. Almost lost you once. I can't." My head aches, her voice sounds distant. I try to step closer to her but my legs feel like jelly. "I thought that once the Games were over everything would go back to normal but it's past that now, Gale. It's past that and now we're here and I _need_ you." I attempt to respond but my throat is dry, scratchy. I can't form a word. "I don't know how to do _any_ of this without you, Gale. People are scared. I'm scared." She sighs, clenching the counter even tighter. "I don't know what to do."

Finally I lurch forward, unable to take the desperation in her voice anymore. "Ma," I wrap my arms around her as she falls onto my chest. "It's okay," I tell her. "It'll be okay."

"I love you, Gale," she chokes out. "But if you need to _go_ then I'll understand. I understand."

And then I do to her what I did to Madge. Put her to bed. Wrap her in hundreds of blankets and leave a light on for her.

Then I slip out of the room and sit in the living room. And then I slip out of the living room and make my way to Haymitch's house. My body still numb.

* * *

The door is open as if he's been expecting me. He sits in his living room with a bottle of white liquor not even bothering to pour a drink. He drinks straight from the bottle and offers it to me when I take the spot next to him. Though I've kept my distance from white liquor because I know how strong it is, I take a swig. Because I know how strong it is. And though I'm still numb maybe it will make me feel something when I wake up.

"Do you want to go in?" he asks. His words have no inflection to them. "Or are you here to tell me to take your place?"

"I don't know," I grunt back. "I can't think."

And really, I can't. I can't think of anything. My mind is a haze where it should be horror. Blank where it should be bitter. Silent where it should be screaming. Empty where it should be enraged.

Haymitch shakes his head and pulls his hands through his greasy hair. "The world's a rotten place, Hawthorne, and it's not going to get any better." His hands rake over his face and he growls. "Whether you go in or I go in things aren't going to get better. If I go then you'll be left alone. I won't lose a thing except my life, which isn't worth anything anymore. And if you go in then I'll just return to the same old lonely drunk I've always been."

"Then let's settle it now," I mutter. "Whoever gets drawn goes in. Fair?"

"Fair," Haymitch nods, snatching the bottle back from me so he can drink again. "It was like I had been given a second chance to save her," he murmurs. "And I did it. I saved her. And now she's being taken from me all over again." He snorts but it's not humorous. "Two people won't be getting out of that arena again. I'll be surprised if even one does. Whoever it is won't be sane. Stable."

"The world's a rotten place, Abernathy," I grumble. "No one wins."

He nods. "No one wins."

We sit there a bit longer, staring down at his floorboards and passing the bottle. We don't talk. What else is there to say? And I'm numb. Numb. Numb.

Hours later it's almost dawn. The sky is a bright blue. Not yet dawn but no longer night. Haymitch throws the long empty bottle onto the floor and makes no movement when it shatters. He nudges me with his elbow and jerks his head toward the door. "Get home before your family wakes," he says. "We'll figure something out later."

* * *

I lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, not asleep yet not awake. A haze. A blank slate. I'm angry at myself that I'm not screaming. I'm angry that I can't respond to this news. This news that should shake me to my core and have me screaming into a pillow.

I roll on my side and face Madge, sleeping soundlessly next to me. She doesn't stir as I pull her body closer to mine. Doesn't wake as I bury my face in her hair. Her breathing is normal. Soft. And I almost wish that she wouldn't wake up. That she could sleep forever, dreaming of a better place. A better time. A world that isn't going to take her from me. Me from her.

My eyes finally prick with tears, my temples throbbing due to the fact that I won't let them fall. Can't let them fall. I have to be strong. I have to be stronger than I've ever had to be before. I cannot break or bend.

"Gale," she murmurs softly. I squeeze my eyes shut and pull her closer, pressing my lips to her forehead once. "Sleep. It's okay."

And soon enough, I drift off and join her.

* * *

When I wake, Madge is gone. Her spot of the bed is no longer warm so I know she's been gone awhile. My head throbs and I wonder if it's the bit of alcohol I consumed last night or the fact that my head never seems to stop pounding. I lay there for a minute, staring at where she was curled in her sleep. I wonder if I was still holding her when she woke up. I wonder if it meant anything to her.

Finally I sit up and stretch, groaning when my back cracks. I feel like I was hit by a train and resolve to never drink again. Whether it's with Haymitch over the fact of our imminent deaths or not.

The family doesn't react when I make it downstairs. The only proof that yesterday actually happened is in the way they don't speak. Silence. They watch me with wide eyes, even little Posy who doesn't fully understand what's going to happen.

"Madge was down," my mother says quickly, ushering me to a chair and setting a plate of pancakes in front of me. "She ate and then said she had to do something. I think she went to Haymitch's. Said not to worry."

"Right," I say dryly. "Can I get some water?"

My mother nods and rushes to the sink, flicking it on and filling a cup up with the cold liquid. Even after downing it all at once I still feel thirsty. Like I haven't had anything to drink in days. But I shove the cup aside when I'm done and shovel down the pancakes.

I should visit Katniss. Or Thom. Or someone. I should do something. Something to get my mind moving and off of the topic of the Quell but once I'm done my pancakes I have no motivation to go anywhere. My mother takes my plate but I stay in my seat, alone at the kitchen table.

Suddenly Posy clambers across the room and forces herself onto my lap, resting her head backwards against my chest. "Gale," she says plainly.

"Posy."

"You seem sad." I laugh lightly as she wiggles on my lap. "I don't like it. Is it because you didn't like any of Madge's dresses?"

The wedding. The wedding will never happen.

The weight of the situation breaks my heart and I lower my forehead to Posy's small shoulder. "No, Pose," I choke. "I loved her dresses. But she won't get to wear them now."

She gasps. "Why not?"

"Well, Posy," I sigh, trying to find the right words. "Madge has to… she has to go on a journey."

"She does?"

"Yes," I nod. "And she might not be back for a very long time." _She might not be back at all._ I swallow the thought and push back the thoughts of who the other tributes might be. Hulking monsters from District 2 with sharpened teeth. Siblings from District 1. Liars and schemers and electricians and secret keepers. Against Madge. And maybe me.

"So she'll still get to wear it when she gets back!" Posy tells me. "Gale, she'll still wear a wedding dress! And you two will get married, I know it!"

"Yeah Pose," I say, holding my little sister tighter. "One day."

"Are you gonna go too?" she asks. "On the journey?"

"Maybe."

She frowns and turns to face me. "You can't go, Gale. Who'll read me stories? Or tuck me in at night? Or…" she continues listing all the little things I do for her as I fight off another batch of tears. Make dinner with her. Help clean the dishes. Play dolls.

"I said maybe," I finally cut her off. "I might not go. I don't know yet, Posy."

"Oh, okay," she nods, for this answer is acceptable. I lift my head and kiss her forehead before scooting her off my lap. "Where're you going now?" she asks, crossing her tiny arms across her chest.

"To harass Haymitch," I murmur, forcing a smile for my little sister who's still too young to know the dangers of this world. "I'll be back."

* * *

When I get to Haymitch's house there's a lot of screaming. Yelling. I hear it before I even get inside. And a clashing of bottles. Glass.

My pace picks up and I rush in, wondering if Haymitch would ever stoop so low as to hit Madge. But when I throw the door open I find it the other way around. Haymitch sits on the couch and Madge stands before him, her hand pointed down at him.

"…you can't keep drinking! Not if your name is going to be pulled!"

"…not a reason for you to dump it all down the sink for Christ's sake!"

My jaw hangs open. "Stop shouting!" I snap. Both of them clamp their mouths shut and turn to face me. "God almighty," I grumble, rubbing my hand over my face. "This sucks, alright? It sucks! But shouting isn't going to help any of us!"

"Then shut up, Hawthorne," Haymitch growls.

"Explain," I demand.

"When I woke up I decided that we need to start training," Madge says, crossing her arms over her chest. "So I came over here and dumped all of Haymitch's liquor down the sink."

"I was still sleeping," Haymitch contributes dully. "Heard the bottles."

Madge looks toward me, her head held high, as if she expects me to say something. So I do. "I'm all for it," I say, pulling my hands through my hair. "Training. No alcohol." I nod. "Good."

"Good," Madge repeats, her voice soft. Tired.

"I hate both of you," Haymitch mutters, continuing to rub his face. "Get out so I can sleep."

Madge smiles fondly at the old man before us and grabs my wrist, pulling me backwards from the room. "Rest up, Haymitch," she calls. "We start tomorrow." There's a grumbling behind us as we exit the Victor's house, shutting the door with a thud. Once we're outside she turns to me slowly, chewing on her lip with her eyebrows knitted. "You really think it's a good idea?"

"Yes, Madge," I say. We lower down to the steps outside his house and she instantly leans onto my side. "I think it's a good idea."

There's a pause as the world moves around us. People continue on with their lives. Last night's announcement has not changed anyone, other than relief for many. Their names won't be in the bowl. They don't have a chance of being drawn.

I should be happy. No Prim or Rory. No Catnip. They get to go another year in peace.

"I told Haymitch to take your place," Madge suddenly says quietly.

"Well we already talked about it so that was unnecessary," I grunt.

"So he's going to? Go for you?"

"No." I sigh, wrinkling my nose. "He's not."

"What do you…" she shakes her head, looking up at me despite the fact that I won't look down. "Gale, look at me. What do you mean?" I shake my head and she reaches up, grabbing my chin. "Look at me."

"Whoevers name gets drawn is going in. That's what we decided."

"That's crap, Gale!"

"How's that crap?"

"Because you have family to protect," she hisses. "You have family and a whole life ahead of you and a future and…" I quiet her with my lips, pulling her face up to mine and kissing her gently. "You can't go back in," she whispers between us, shaking her head. "You can't, Gale. Let Haymitch take your place. Make him."

I shake my head, my nose brushing against hers. "I won't."

"Why not?"

Letting out a deep breath I give her another kiss, gently laying my lips over hers. "Because," I murmur. "If my name gets drawn I can go in and protect you."

"But your family," she tries, but I shake my head again.

"You are my family, Madge." I kiss down her neck until I reach the chain she wears. My fingers slip down and pull the silver string up until the ring is over her shirt rather than under it. "Either way I'm going to lose someone."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry if it feels choppy. It's supposed to feel choppy. I'm trying to update this more often! We're nearing the end! And I'm going to tell you all now that chances are you won't like the ending. But it's going to happen. But this is my formal warning. Love you all c:_


	40. Chapter 40

When Madge talked about training she sincerely meant it. She's already spoken with my mother about foods that will fatten us up and keep us strong, and all three of us eat together now. We practice with knifes and throwing. We practice climbing trees. Katniss shows up to help us work our muscles that need to be strong for archery, though she can't bring the bows.

She brings Prim along every once in a while too, and the small blonde will brief us about every type of medicine she knows about. Once the lesson is done for the day Prim scampers away, her eyes filling with tears before we can invite her to stay for dinner.

Haymitch is falling apart. He can't hold still, ever, and he pants when he runs. His entire body acts as if it's going to collapse every time he takes two steps. Climbing trees is nearly impossible for him, and running is painful to watch. But over the course of the next few weeks he slowly gets better.

Every night I collapse into bed, sore and aching. Madge curls up to my side and I promise her that it'll be okay. That we'll get out of this somehow.

Katniss stops over one Sunday without any training advice. Madge is over at Haymitch's cleaning up and making sure he hasn't been sneaking alcohol, so it's nice that Katniss is over.

"Peeta's better," she tells me. "Well not better, but my mom says it's a full recovery." Katniss shrugs and tugs on her braid. "He's still shaking when he walks though."

"I know you're not here to talk about Peeta," I grunt. "So just get on with it."

"I have no idea what's going on," she finally whispers, knitting her eyebrows together. "I'm confused and scared and I don't want to lose you. I feel like I lose everyone and I don't want to lose you too, Gale."

"You won't," I murmur. "As long as I don't lose you."

And for some reason, Katniss finds this funny. She laughs. And it's the most uplifting thing I've heard in a very long time. She _laughs_ and it gets to the point where she doubles over on her knees, gasping for breath. And I join in, confused as to what's funny but wanting to hang on to this feeling.

Finally when we've run out of air and there's no proof of our outbursts other than the smiles that remain painted on our faces she shakes her head. "I'm not going anywhere, Gale. You're the one who throws yourself into every dangerous situation just for the hell of it."

When Katniss leaves she hugs me tightly. Tells me to keep going because this is only the start. Waves over her shoulder. Only the start? I remember before all this started when we sat in the woods planning to run away. At least I was. Get the hell out of here. And now there's nowhere to run.

* * *

It's hot. Disgustingly hot. Sticky. My clothes stick to every inch of me. Haymitch stands next to me and continuously shrugs his shoulders, trying to get his shirt to pull away from his body. Madge stands across the aisle all alone in a pretty white dress. She does what Haymitch does, shrugging and pulling her fabric from her stomach so it doesn't stick.

Somewhere behind me stands my family. Stands Katniss. Stands Mellark. At least they're not standing here.

Effie takes the stage and does her usual greeting, though it's halfhearted now. Her smile is more forced, she doesn't even look down at us once. She's in a bright gold metallic wig but it doesn't make up for her lack in personality. She's quiet. Effie Trinket has fallen quiet.

She claws through the large glass ball that only has one slip and yanks it out with a frown. Her voice cracks as she calls out, "Margaret Undersee." And like all those days ago, Madge takes the stage as if nothing is wrong. She holds her head high and marches forward, taking the stage with such a grace I'm not sure how she manages. Madge meets my eyes and chews on her bottom lip before glancing out over the crowd.

And suddenly I'm thinking of her family. Her father. Her mother. Did she talk with them before this? How are they taking it? Will they miss her?

But I'm pulled out of my thoughts the second Effie is speaking again. "Gale Hawthorne." Something in me snaps. Maybe it's the small hope I had been clinging onto that this wouldn't happen. Not that my name wouldn't get called, exactly, but that no one's name would get called. That the Victor's wouldn't be going in. That I could live my life without this.

From the stage I see Madge balling her hands into fists, and from behind me I hear murmurs that resemble the sound of my family. I start toward the stage when I'm instantly frozen by the man next to me.

"I volunteer," Haymitch bellows out. He practically shoves me out of the way. "I volunteer in place of Gale Hawthorne."

* * *

No goodbyes. No farewells. I guess it doesn't matter now that I'll be going back, but I'm still frozen. Haymitch and Madge are escorted to the train separately than me and I feel anger ebbing through my veins the entire ride. My fingers twitch as I'm lead to the train, knowing that _my_ tributes are already waiting there.

The second I step foot in and the doors shut I race through the cars.

"What the fuck was that?" I hiss, grabbing Haymitch's shoulder and throwing him against the wall. "We had a _deal_, Abernathy!"

"Gale!" Madge shrieks, trying to pull me away from him. Her touch eases me and I loosen my grip, barely stepping away from the man in front of me. "Gale," Madge whispers, her voice nearly panicked. "Don't. Just walk away."

I throw my hands up, pacing away from him and letting her hands fall limp. "You're _angry_ that I saved you from death?" Haymitch calls, amusement to his voice. "For Christ's sake, Hawthorne, if I had known you wanted to throw your life away that bad I would've let you!"

My hands instantly clench into fists and Madge steps up again, her hand tightly resting against my arm. "Let it go, Gale," she murmurs. "Please. Please don't hit him." As I spin around to face her she clutches my hands. "I asked him to," she breathes. "I asked him to take your place."

"I already told you that—" I start, but she cuts me off.

"It doesn't matter. I asked him to take your place because I couldn't bear the thought of you going back in too. Okay?"

As I go to respond Effie's voice, still not as sing-song-y as it used to be, invades us. "Gale," she says sternly. "Considering you're the Mentor this year I'm to show you to your quarters."

"Don't bother," I grunt, shaking Madge's grip from my hands. "Haymitch can have his usual room and I'll share with Madge."

The Escort frowns. "That isn't how this works."

"Oh?" I snap. "This has happened before? A mentor demoting himself to a tribute? I'm so glad you've done this before, Effie, because I fucking haven't!" I throw my hands in the air and march past the escort and the two tributes, _my _two tributes, and into my old room.

The train is familiar, and I need something familiar now. I take the room I had when I was a tribute. When I was a Victor on the Victory Tour. I slam the door and lock it, marching into the small space. I angrily rip my clothes from my body and storm into the shower.

It burns. The water pounds on my back and burns and that's all I can focus on. My entire body is sore, whether it be from training or what I'm not sure. But I'm sore and I'm tired and my head hurts and I let the steam smother me and the water wash away everything wrong I've ever done in my life.

When I finally regain my balance I shut it off, annoyed at the scent the Capitol infuses into its shampoos and soaps, and exit the shower. I wrap a towel around my waist and lumber back into the bedroom, nearly jumping out of my skin when I notice Madge sitting on my bed. She averts her eyes instantly, her cheeks flailing up red no matter how many times she's seen me half dressed.

"Christ, Madge," I mutter, spinning in the other direction to fumble with the dresser. "What ever happened to knocking?" Besides, I thought I locked the door. As I pull on boxers quickly I remember that this is a tributes room, and they don't allow locks on those.

"I thought you were trying to drown yourself," she murmurs, her eyes still not turning toward me. Quickly I pull on a pair of slacks. "You were in there for like, an hour."

"I was thinking," I say back.

Madge sighs angrily. "Are you dressed yet?" When I don't respond she slowly turns her eyes to face me, sighing with relief when she finds me partially clothed. "Gale, don't be angry—"

"Angry?" I growl. "I have every right to be angry. He went back on his word and—"

"He did it to protect you!" Madge nearly screams. "He did it for _you_ and for _me_ and because he was tired of losing people!" I watch her reflection in the mirror as I dig around the drawers for a shirt. "I thought you'd be _happy_! You can go home to Posy and your mom and your brothers and—"

"And with you?" I ask. I slip a red shirt over my head and turn around to face her. "So I can go home with you, right?" Madge chews on her lip and readjusts how she sits on the bed, pulling on her hair while searching for something to say. I cross over to where Madge sits and take the spot next to her. "You made him do that so you can come back with me, right?" Still, she doesn't answer. Her chin quivers as I lower my forehead to hers. "You have to come back, Madge."

This is the only explanation. She made Haymitch volunteer because she's going to try her hardest to get back to me. And then this horror will be over. Right?

"I'm gonna try," she whimpers.

"No," I pull her face into my hands and shake my head. "There is no try. You _have_ to."

"Gale—"

But I don't want to hear it. I drop down and press my lips to hers. Gently at first, but then she shivers against me. Her hands reach for the shirt I've just thrown on so she can pull herself closer. The thought of Madge not returning is too overwhelming for me to deal with right now, I just have her. She's all that I have to focus on. Her warmth and her touch and her breath. When she pulls away her hands instantly run up my cheeks, wiping away the tears I hadn't known were falling.

"I'll come home," she chokes out, nodding and nodding and nodding. "I will. I'll come home for you."

* * *

We don't go out to eat dinner with Haymitch and Effie. We seclude ourselves in this room, clinging to each other as if we're the only two tangible things left in the entire world. We order room service, having the train attendants bring our food to us. We watch the Reaping.

I tell Madge that we don't have to, that we'll know soon enough, but she insists.

Two terrifying blondes from District 1. The girl Cashmere reminds me of Glimmer from last year. Which in turn reminds me of Madge. And I'm sure she thinks the same thing. Hulking, brooding monsters from District 2. Names of Victors I surely know but can't remember their games. A flirtatious man from District 4. Names and more names and more people. An axe master. An armless fighter. A woman and her kids.

Madge.

Haymitch.

She reaches for the remote and shuts the television off before our elder even takes the stage.

We sit in the quiet for a bit. I don't know how long. Minutes. Hours. God, I wish it were days. Someone comes in to collect our dirty dishes but no one comes for Madge. No one comes for me.

"Why did you get so angry?" she finally asks. "When Haymitch took your place? You got so angry…"

I wait a bit before answering. I don't know what to say. "I wanted to protect you," I force out. "I would've been able to protect you."

I pull her into my arms before she can say anything else and we lower ourselves to the mattress. Every time her chin quivers I smother it with kisses. Every time her eyes fill with tears I wipe them away. Madge falls asleep eventually, but I don't. I study the golden glow of her hair, the gentle paleness to her skin. Her cheeks. Her nose. Her ears. Her knuckles. Her collarbone.

Because this may be the last time I'll ever get the chance.

And eventually the sun creeps into the sky, but I've yet to fall asleep. I don't want to fall asleep. What if I wake and she's gone?

* * *

It turns out that Mentors have to get ready for the opening ceremonies too, despite not actually being in them. Effie pulls Madge away from me with a look of pure agony on her face and hands her off to Cinna. I wait in a dressing room much fancier than the one I had when I was a tribute, wondering who my new stylist will be, and frowning at the mirrors.

There are bags under my eyes. I bet they'll love that. I bet they'll _love_ me and my angst and annoyance. Oh sure.

But to my relief, when the door opens, Portia saunters in with her usual spring in her step.

"Portia?"

"Hey handsome," she grins, marching over to me and holding open her arms. Without hesitation I leap to my feet, accepting her hug quickly. Familiarity is nice. Before I can even ask she says, "I get to you keep you. My loving tribute and his loving stylist, together again."

"Thank God," I say, letting out a deep breath and releasing my grip.

"Goodness, Gale," she says, smacking my cheek lightly. "It doesn't look like you've slept in days." Portia offers a weak smile before hugging me again, only quickly. We can't talk here. And I'm not sure I want to talk at all.

Portia is my guide. She leads me through the steps of being a mentor as if she's one herself, as if she's done this before when I know she hasn't. She takes me to the stands where I meet up with Effie and we sit together. Front row seats for the opening ceremony. Wonderful. Great. Because I want to be front and center when the world goes to shit.

"You look much better," Effie tells me, her voice bright again. She must've taken something. "Portia always does help you look your best!"

"Thanks, Effie," I sigh. Portia gave me some sort of caffeine pill to wake me up for the next few hours. "You look good too."

And this must please her, because she rambles on and on about how grateful she is to have a partner like me. How we're going to get so much money for Haymitch and Madge. I only nod and shrug and act amused with what she says, still too tired to pay attention. I do somehow manage to apologize for my attitude, though. She smiles and accepts it, thanking me for the apology.

The ceremonies start.

A lot of the tributes must've taken a page out of the District 12 book because they try to recreate the whole 'on fire' thing. At least some things make sense like electricity for District 3, but for District 10? Doesn't make sense at all. I watch everyone roll by as if I'm watching some fake Capitol movie. It doesn't seem real. None of it.

Not when I see District 1 looking lovely as always, or Finnick Odair in a fishnet. Not when I see Johanna Mason as a tree, either.

But when I see Madge. That's when I get the disgusting reminder that this isn't a movie, that this is real and it's happening. She looks perfect. Pristine perfect, crafted under Cinna's magical hands. I laugh when I shouldn't because Haymitch looks so uncomfortable. They're matching, much like Madge and I had been last year.

And they're glowing. Coal embers. I know the look well; it's how a fireplace looks when it dies out. I've spent plenty of nights just watching the coals fade to black.

Madge and Haymitch stare out at the crowds, no smiles or happiness to their faces. They look deadly. Scary.

Familiar.

Effie pulls me up as soon as President Snow starts to speak, leading me down a back hallway behind Portia and Cinna and another stylist who I don't know. We walk in a line quietly, listening to the speech the old graying leader of our country gives. About how it's a year to remember. About how proud we should all be. This is for our country. This is for the future.

My stomach knots.

When he's done speaking and the crowd is done cheering and the chariots are finally rolling to a stop, I don't hesitate to rush toward my own District. Haymitch helps Madge down and shudders, picking at his black bodysuit.

"I look like hell," Haymitch forces out.

"I thought you looked _dazzling_," Madge chimes brightly, patting him on the shoulder. "You did good, old man." I snort before I can help it, tugging Madge over to me quickly. "Hey," she smiles, touching my cheek lightly. "Well, well, look at you all Mentor-esque."

I frown, toying with her hair. "Cinna put it up again," I murmur. "Looks better down."

Madge laughs. "Funny. Finnick Odair said the same thing." Again I frown, and again she laughs. And it almost feels familiar. Only it doesn't, because Haymitch isn't where I am, and I'm not in some fancy getup, and Finnick Odair really _is_ just over there, smiling brightly in our direction. "Don't worry. I rejected his offer of a sugar cube." I groan as she laughs again, and then we make our way to the elevators. "It's a shame we don't have more time to know them all."

"I think it's better," I grunt. Easier to take them out when she has to. No alliances. It would be harder to kill a friend.

"They're nice people, Gale. Johanna Mason said something about how she couldn't wait to get her hands on you."

I nudge Madge into the elevator and roll my eyes. "Because that definitely means she's a nice person."

"I'll have you know," a voice suddenly shouts, joining us on the elevator, "that I'm a _very_ nice person." Johanna Mason, as a tree, joins us on the elevator. Madge giggles and brings her body closer to mine. "Just because you're good looking doesn't mean you get to go make judgments about people, Hawthorne."

"Whatever you say, Mason," I murmur. I don't like being in the same room as her. I don't like her being in the same room as Madge. I don't like how she knows my name. How this conversation almost feels friendly. How Madge finds it humorous.

The District 7 Victor picks at her branches for a bit before tearing off her headdress and throwing it to the ground. "Isn't this outfit just awful? I wish I had yours," she coos to Madge. "You look fantastic." As if out of instinct I pull Madge closer to me, and then watch Johanna's eyes light up. "Christ, I'm not going to steal her away from you," she nearly laughs. "That outfit, though…" she trails off as the elevator _dings_ opening up on her floor. "Well, here's my stop. See you tomorrow, girl on fire," she says to Madge.

Johanna winks at me before sauntering off the elevator. She strips out of her dress before the doors even shut, revealing her naked backside to both Madge and I. And then she's gone. The elevator jolts upward again and my grip on Madge loosens.

"She's a character," I mutter. Madge laughs again, but when we reach our own floor she falls silent. "Madge, I don't like this."

The blonde sighs, tangling her fingers with mine. "Me neither. But we don't have a choice, Gale. This is how it has to be."

* * *

_A/N: Sort of fast? Sorry, I think. Favorite part / predictions? Or hate it? I don't know man. Love you all_


	41. Chapter 41

When I wake up Madge is gone. Effie has snatched her away from me in the wee hours of the morning because she had training. I almost wish I could join her. Watch everyone. Learn their strengths and weaknesses so I could tell Madge. Reteach her how to use a bow, though I'm not sure if I really remember how to do so myself.

Instead I mope around the penthouse. Effie and I have mock conversations that I will have to have to with sponsors. She tells me I won't have to do much to get money because everyone already loves me, and everyone will be desperate to get Madge home to me. I watch updates about the Games predictions as to who will win. Finnick Odair remains in first.

With a groan I flick the television off, and then a few moments later the elevator dings. Madge and Haymitch stumble off with sour looks on their faces. Madge marches right past him and Haymitch makes a face behind her.

"I'm getting cleaned up for dinner," Madge mutters.

"Me too," Haymitch grumbles. And then the two are gone.

Quickly I push myself from the couch and race after Madge. Haymitch's room is across the hall from hers and I hear him hissing about something, and drawers being opened and shut angrily. I roll my eyes and knock lightly on Madge's door, not really waiting for her to respond before I open it. She sits on her bed, having changed swiftly into a light blue dress. Her eyes meet mine before she tightly crosses her arms over her chest.

"What happened?" I ask, settling onto her bed next to her. "Talk to me."

"Haymitch spent most of the time with Chaff," she mutters. "Which isn't a big deal, really. But he kept shooing me away whenever I even _tried_ to join in the conversation. I ended up alone more often than not with Finnick Odair batting his stupid pretty eyelashes at me." She tugs at the tips of her hair and wrinkles her nose. "Haymitch kept telling me to go practice _this_ or practice _that _because that's what _May_ needed help with." Madge turns to me and sighs. "I'm different than Maysilee."

"I know. Haymitch does too." I pull her chin closer to face me and wait until her eyes meet mine. "Maybe this is how he's coping. Maybe this is how he distances himself from you. So he can help you win."

It's all hopes and dreams, sure. I haven't the slightest idea what Haymitch is up to.

Madge only sighs again. "Maybe."

I bend forward and kiss her nose. Madge allows herself to smile. "Other than that?"

"Same as last year," she says with a shrug. "Though everyone's a lot lazier. Sometimes Johanna will try to talk to me and sometimes she'll just start taking off her clothes. Cashmere and Gloss aren't too bad."

I roll my eyes. "You killed both of their tributes."

"They like me," she says with a shrug. There's a hint of playfulness in her voice and I allow myself to smile as well. "Must be my hair. Matches theirs."

"Must be," I mutter. She laughs and launches herself forward, pressing her lips to mine.

We spend the rest of the time before dinner just lying in her bed. I tell her about how I spent my day doing absolutely nothing and how Effie has managed to bore me half to death. I play with her hair. I sneak in kisses as often as I can. We eventually join everyone else at the dinner table.

Haymitch and Effie are talking about something in very hushed quiet voices, and Madge and I crane our necks to hear them before actually stepping into the dining room. After a few moments of trying to decipher their whispers I realize that she's _comforting_ him. Madge realizes it the same time I do and widens her eyes. _Effie and Haymitch? _she mouths. I only shrug.

After clearing my throat and giving them time to separate, Madge and I join everyone for dinner. Portia and Cinna are absent and after questioning this Effie clears things up.

"Just because Portia is still your stylist doesn't mean she doesn't style for District 12 anymore," Effie says. "She designs what Haymitch will wear and trains his new stylist."

"Who's a bit touchy," Haymitch tells us before shoving a hunk of meat into his mouth.

"_Any_way," Effie quickly changes the subject, asking Madge and Haymitch about their time in the training center. Madge quiets down as Haymitch rambles on and on about Chaff doing this or Enobaria doing that or Brutus or Mags or Seeder…

And this carries on for two days. Madge leaves me for training which, she tells me, eventually gets better. Haymitch talks about his friends. Effie tries to teach me how to talk to people without scowling.

When the scores are released Madge grips my hand tightly. Telling me that she tried. She didn't know what to do. She gets 9. Haymitch gets a 6.

It isn't until interview night that I remember they're going back into the Arena.

* * *

"Gale, stop pacing," Portia scolds me, straightening out my tie. "You look fine."

"Fine?" I growl, glancing down at my outfit. "I look like I'm getting _married_, Portia." And I hate it.

It's like a sick reminder that I might never actually get married. Because if Madge dies in there I know I won't. No one can replace her. My stomach is heavy as Portia fixes my hair. Madge is going back into the Games tomorrow. Alongside Haymitch. I almost wish it were me. Hell, I do wish it were me. I could fight my life out for her. I would. I'd dive through fire and ash if I had to. I wouldn't let her burn.

If she dies in there I don't know what I'll do.

Portia drags me from the prep room to the audience. Front row seats. She doesn't say anything else. We quietly join Effie who raves and rants about my outfit and wait for the tributes to take the stage.

Cashmere and Gloss. Enobaria and Brutus. Wiress and Beetee. Mags and Finnick. Everyone looks wonderful. Stunning. Johanna isn't dressed as a tree. My eyes are constantly searching for Madge but when they find her I wish they hadn't. It blows the air out of my lungs. Renders me physically unable to breathe.

Because she's in a wedding dress.

I glance down at myself and blink. Once. Twice. Three times. Is this some sort of sick joke? Haymitch is dressed up as though he'd be attending a wedding. Like the best man, though if there is ever to be a wedding he won't get that title. Because he'll be dead. Or there won't be a wedding. Only now do I realize that I don't have the mockingjay pin tightly on my jacket, but Haymitch has it on his.

To distract myself I drag my gaze back to Madge. God dammit she looks so perfect. Her golden hair cascades down her shoulders in beautiful curls, her eyes shine in the spotlight. She even smiles, waving out at the crowd. So incredibly perfect.

A growl escapes my throat before I can help myself and Portia grabs my hand, bringing me back down to earth. Anger courses through my veins. Why is it okay for them to do this to us? Why does Snow like to watch us suffer? I drag my fingers through my hair and remind myself to breathe.

Madge's dress hugs her perfectly. I try my hardest to tear my eyes from her but I can't. If she knows where I am in the crowd she doesn't look. She smiles and tugs on her hair nervously. She still has the necklace on with the ring I gave her. I let out another deep breath and Portia squeezes my hand again.

The interviews start.

Cashmere is first to speak and I wonder if what Madge has said is true. That Cashmere likes her. Either that or the blonde is playing up the crowd, talking about how she cries when she thinks of her Capitol friends. And then Gloss talks about him and his sister and all the kindness that had been shown. Beetee questions the Games. Finnick recites a poem. Johanna asks if anything can be done about this. My eyes stay on Madge the entire time, she makes herself look entirely too interested in the interviews. Haymitch shifts nervously, fiddling with the mockingjay pin.

I go to ask Portia about the pin but Madge is escorted next to Caesar before I can get the question out. Instantly I'm back in tune with the interviews and the mockingjay is far from my mind. Madge gracefully takes her seat.

"Well, well, Madge Undersee," Caesar smiles. "I had not expected to be interviewing you again so soon, especially under these conditions."

"Me neither, Caesar," she returns.

"Nonetheless, you look wonderful. This is clearly an emotional night for everyone," he says, running his hands through his lavender hair. "Is there anything you'd like to say?"

Madge smiles and waits a moment to collect herself. "Yes," she nods. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry you might not be able to come to my wedding. Gale and I were looking forward for everyone to see us getting married." She pauses and wipes at her eyes, though from here it doesn't look as though she's crying. "But now I'm not so sure we'll get to."

"Speaking of Gale, how is he? How're you two?"

"He's spectacular, of course. Working hard to make sure I come home. Though it looks bleak he… he wants to wait to have the wedding until I come home." She pauses. "_If_ I come home. There are so many fantastic tributes this year."

"That there are," Caesar nods. "Now I know it's hard for you to speak of your wedding but may I…?" he trails off, waiting for Madge to nod. "With Gale still home making sure you get back to him, you're going to fight very hard. Are you not?"

"Most certainly," Madge nods. "Gale's everything to me and I'm not going to let anyone, including President Snow, take him away from me." There are murmurs at her remark and I find myself squinting, staring at the blonde on the stage. "But that's not the only reason I'm going to try to come home."

"It isn't?"

"No," Madge shakes her head. She takes a deep breath and looks out at the crowd toward me. "I have a secret."

"A secret?" Caesar's intrigued. So are the viewers.

"Yes," Madge nods. The crowd nearly falls forward out of their seats. I try to remain where I am. "Gale means the world to me, but I have to come home for our children." I clench my jaw together. What is she getting at? "I'm pregnant. With twins."

If I knew what happened next I'd say it, but it's such a blur. Screaming and shouting and a buzzer and Madge being escorted back to her seat. I know for a fact that they're filming my face so I remain indifferent, even trying to make myself seem sad rather than shocked. Portia squeezes my hand again and I force my attention back to Haymitch, who now sits in the spotlight.

Madge wipes at her eyes from her seat and keeps her gaze on Haymitch as well.

"Haymitch Abernathy!" Caesar cheers. "Well if it isn't a pleasure to see you." Haymitch snorts noncommittally and tugs his hands through his hair. "Now, isn't it strange? Watching your tributes grow up? Get married?"

"I won't get to see any of that happen," Haymitch waves his hand toward Caesar. "I'll be dead as a doornail." The crowd laughs as though this is funny and Haymitch only shrugs. "No doubt in my mind that blondie over there is going to fight tooth and nail to get back to Hawthorne."

"Ah, yes," Caesar nods. "How wonderful that they love each other so."

"Nu-uh, Flickerman," Haymitch says, shaking his head. "It's sickening the way these two love each other. Disgusting." Again the crowd laughs and I look up toward Madge. Her cheeks are now pink and she laughs a bit too. "And they're having twins for God's sake. Lord help us all."

More laugher which eventually dies down. "Joking or not, Haymitch, I think you're rather fond of the two."

"And what makes you say that?"

"You did volunteer for Gale, didn't you?"

Haymitch nods. "I did." It makes me uncomfortable how they like to speak about me as though I'm not here.

"And you're wearing the pin that Gale often wore."

"More or less," Haymitch grunts.

"What for?" Caesar asks. "The people of Panem are _dying_ to know what it is that made these two changed you from a cranky old drunk to this selfless man!"

Again Haymitch snorts, shaking his head at the lavender colored man. "There's a few reasons for that, Caesar. You see I volunteered for Gale because I promised Madge I would. And I keep every promise to Madge because she looks so much like her aunt, Maysilee Donner." The name is familiar to me. It freezes me in my spot even more so. "And this pin isn't Madge's or Gale's, it's Maysilee's."

"Haymitch," Caesar pauses him. "Who's Maysilee?"

"Maysilee Donner," Haymitch repeats slowly, "was my ally in the 2nd Quarter Quell. And she died by the hand of a mutt." Still, the crowd is quiet. "And I couldn't save her. So I am forever indebted to Madge, Maysilee's niece." Haymitch lifts his gaze to President Snow who sits high on a balcony. "I couldn't save Maysilee because that bastard up there killed him. But I'm saving Madge. Because someone needs a happy ending from this shithole of a life."

* * *

Effie, Portia and I reach the top floor before Madge and Haymitch even reach the elevators. With Haymitch's final words and Madge's proclamation and all of the tributes linking hands at the end I'm left sort of in a daze.

Portia leads me to my room before I can even say anything, even though I've been sleeping in Madge's room for the past few nights.

The room is huge. A lot bigger than a tribute's room. A real lock on the door. A giant closet filled with plenty of things. A lot more technical buttons and gadgets that I'll never really understand. I lower myself to the mattress that takes up at least a quarter of the room and stare down at my hands. My stomach is knotted, my hands are sweaty.

A few moments later there's a knock on my door, and Madge strolls in before I can even respond. I force myself to my feet and she pauses by the door. "Nice place," she says. "A lot bigger than my room."

I lick my lips because they're much too dry and frown. "Why the hell'd they do this to us?" I ask. Madge lifts her shoulders and drops her gaze. "You look _so_ beautiful."

A wet laugh escapes her throat as I pull her into my arms, resting my chin on her head. Tears prick at her eyes and her throat is overly scratchy. "This one was my favorite," she tells me, burying herself into my chest. "Out of all of them, they had to pick this one."

"My favorite too," I murmur. Simple. Elegant. Madge. She tips her head back and stares up at me, tears filling her eyes. The sight nearly brings me to my knees. Instead of letting myself get choked up I swallow it down. "So we're having twins?"

She laughs again, still wet and tearful, and rolls her eyes. Her hands grab my neck and pull me down until her lips collide with mine. "Peeta's idea," she murmurs, careful not to be too loud. Who knows how many listening devices are hidden in this room?

"Oh so they're Peeta's twins?" I growl.

Again she laughs, pulling me back down against her and muttering something about how ridiculous I am. As we kiss she tugs me forward, and we fall onto the bed as one. Only now do I steady us, dropping my mouth down her chin, her jaw. The dress she wears is strapless and I couldn't be more thankful. I kiss her collarbone, her chest, the chain that holds the ring I gave her.

Her fingers tug at pants and sighs. "Have I ever told you how nice you look dressed up?"

"You have not," I breathe into her neck. She laughs and fiddles with the button on my jeans. "Hey, wait," I glance up and meet her gaze. "What's the rush?"

"What's the rush?" she repeats astonished. Madge drops her hands from me and falls back on the bed, her eyes wide and angry. "What do you mean what's the rush, Gale? I go back in tomorrow. I—"

"You're coming home," I grumble. I prop myself up on my elbow. "We should wait until you get back."

Still, her mouth is in that little _o_. Madge shakes her head. "And what if I don't get back?" she asks.

"Don't even talk like that," I hiss. Madge lifts her hands and tugs through her hair, squeezing her eyes shut tightly before she lets out a groan of frustration. "Think of it as an extra motivation," I whisper before pressing my lips to her ear.

She stays like that a moment, allowing me to breathe against her as she rubs her temples. "Gale," Madge finally chokes out. "I'm scared." Her eyes peel open and she turns to face me, gripping my tie and dragging me closer. "I'm _terrified_."

"I know," I respond. And I do. Because I feel it too. The terror in my veins, the desperation in my blood. My hands shake as I pull her face into my hands. "I'll do whatever I have to, Madge. I'll bring you home. I'll get you out." She smiles, but it's weak. Her eyes are filled with tears again. "I'm not going to let them hurt you."

"I trust you," she whispers.

"Everything from before," I murmur. "Before the first Games. The fighting… the anger. Madge, I—"

"Stop it," she whimpers. Madge curls herself closer to me, allowing me to hold her. "I love you."

"I love you."

And we say nothing else because there's nothing else to say. She slips from her wedding dress and I from my suit and we sleep in our underclothes. We kiss and we touch and we hold each other because there is literally nothing else we can do. She buries herself into my side and I wish I could promise her tomorrow. I wish I could promise her safety. A future. But I can't. No matter what I say I can't promise her any of that. But I love her.

And for some reason, tonight I actually fall asleep.

* * *

_A/N: I'm going to go with two or three more chapters left. Probably oodles of spelling mistakes and stuff but I'm going away for the week and wanted to get this up before I left. Love you all. Reviews are welcome. _


	42. Chapter 42

Effie wakes me up a few hours before I'm actually needed. Tells me to make myself presentable because I look like a wreck. Finds Portia for me. Fixes me a plate of something to eat. "You should've seen Madge when she walked out of your room," Effie hums as I eat. "Wearing nothing but the shirt you wore last night. Nearly gave Haymitch a heart attack. I told him, 'well, Haymitch, they're expecting a child! Two, actually. So you should figure that they'd say goodbye like that tonight.' And he responded in a very foul manner, that he did."

I only nod and grunt. Madge didn't wake me up. Madge didn't say goodbye. She wore my shirt, sure, but didn't say goodbye. She might never get to. It gets increasingly harder to swallow every bite.

Portia escorts me away from Effie when she spots me clutching my fork as though I'm going to break it. She forces me to take a shower and gets me ready for pre-Game interviews. Does my hair. Gets me dressed. Shows me the video of Madge stepping on the hovercraft. I laugh at her outfit, her messy blonde hair.

"You two are breaking hundreds of rules," Portia tells me with a soft smile. "I can't tell if it's good or bad."

"Me neither," I respond. "But I'm leaning toward bad."

"Revolutionary, maybe," she grins. Portia leads me to the pre-Game interviews and tries to talk me through the process. "Don't smile. Don't smile at all because then someone will think you're happy about losing her. Yeah, that face. Make that face the whole time. And constantly bring back the fact that you're losing more than just Madge."

"I'm not losing—"

"I know," Portia sighs. "I know you're not losing her. It just feels like you are."

I frown and drop down into a seat, rubbing at my face angrily. "Have you ever…" I trail off and let out a deep breath. "Portia, for a while I thought I was going to end up with someone else. There was this girl back home who I loved endlessly. I would've married her if Madge hadn't showed up. I thought this other girl was the moon and the stars. Thought she was everything." I shake my head and suck in a sharp breath. "But she wasn't. She was just a friend. A sister, even. Maybe if I had realized that earlier… if I had known that before all of this then… then maybe we wouldn't be here. Maybe it would somehow be different."

"But it's not different," Portia says. "Because you're here. And maybe you can save Madge and maybe you can't. If you give up now you'll never find out."

I swallow once. "And if I lose her?"

"Then you piece yourself back together again. Because you've done it before."

I jerk my head into a nod and wait for the cameras to come. In moments they're swarming on me, asking questions about Madge and about Haymitch and this and that and I only respond because I have to. The flash of every reporter makes my head hurt more, and the words they force out leave me more confused. Once or twice I swear I hear them say Katniss rather than Madge. Or Peeta rather than Haymitch.

"That's enough questions," Effie comes out of nowhere to drag me away. "He has to get to the Sponsor room and he barely slept at all last night! His fiancée was stolen from him!" So they let me go.

* * *

Sitting in a room filled with monitors and previous bustling Victors and cold metal chairs is not comforting. Hearing the numbers counting down from 60 to 59 to 58 to 57 and so on is not comforting. Madge being lifted into the arena alongside 22 other killers is not comforting. The sight of the ocean is not comforting. The sight of the sand is not comforting. Portia's hand on my shoulder is not comforting.

And furthermore, something is wrong. The scene is entirely too wrong. Madge's hair glinting off the sun just as the Cornucopia does so. Wrong. Haymitch crouched and staring at Madge. Wrong. It feels as though I should reach in and switch people out with others. I tug at my hair and force my eyes to stay open. To watch the monitors with Madge and Haymitch. With Madge. Only with Madge.

Only now do I realize she doesn't have on the wedding ring I proposed with at the Capitol. She has on the one I gave her on the train. My heart swells awfully as I blink a few times, forcing myself to stay awake.

"I can get you some sort of pill," Effie says brightly. "If it will help."

"No it won't help, Effie," Portia grumbles. "Leave him be. He just needs his space."

"Will you two both just step away?" I snap. I throw my hands in the air and force myself to my feet, yet remain at my station. The other Mentors around me pause and glance in my direction, but none offer their assistance. Why should they? I don't know them. They don't know me. We're not friends. I don't plan to be.

3… 2… 1…

Madge dives into the water without hesitation and reaches the Cornucopia in seconds. Since when is she a swimmer? Haymitch is a bit more hesitant but eventually jumps into the water as well, swimming towards the Cornucopia before most of the other tributes.

When Madge reaches the platform the only other person there is Finnick Odair. Anger burns in my stomach as they make eye contact and nod once. "Sticking with me, Blondie?" he asks.

"I told you I would, Odair, don't be dumb about it."

"I wasn't sure if your baby hormones had made you change your mind," he says with a smirk, his eyes dropping down to her stomach. Finnick digs through the Cornucopia and pulls out a trident. "Not gonna be easy," he calls out over the sound of the waves. "No supplies!"

"I'm not blind," Madge hisses back. "I can see that!" Madge digs through the weapons that litter the area until she finds a few knives and a backpack. She rifles through it until she spots something she likes, and lifts her head just as Haymitch reaches the platform. "1 and 2?"

"No go," Haymitch barks as he heaves himself up.

"Dammit," Madge mutters. She shifts with the items in her hand as I try to make sense of them. Needles? It doesn't look right. Something isn't right. She loads a little contraption and leaps to her feet. "Haymitch, move!"

Finnick spins the other direction, watching Madge's back, as she pulls the item back up. She lowers her mouth to the box and sends out a dart – darts! – toward the person advancing on them. Cashmere gets hit in the neck and groans, collapsing instantly. She's taken the Maysilee path. She's working with darts.

"Nice shot," Finnick calls over his shoulder. Because the cannons can't go off during the bloodbath there's no way to tell for sure if Cashmere is dead or not. I guess she hadn't really liked Madge all that much after all. Madge tosses Haymitch a knife and the aged man dips down, plunging it through the heart of the District 1 girl.

Haymitch shudders. "Wasn't looking forward to this."

"Get used to it, old man," Madge calls. "Because a lot of people are going to die." She crosses the platform and nudges Cashmere into the waves so there's more room for them to search. "Grab some stuff," she orders him as Finnick takes out Gloss. 1 is down and out. A man from 5. A woman from 9.

Some of the other tributes are eventually slipping into the water. More than once I catch Haymitch glancing around for someone else, probably Chaff or Johanna, and Finnick waits by the Cornucopia until Mags joins them. They make it away from the Cornucopia before most of the other tributes even reach it. The bloodbath continues on but Madge is out. So I can breathe again.

Portia eases my hand off of the counter I've been gripping. My knuckles are white. It's strenuous to see. But she's safe. She's safe.

"Look, Gale," Effie points to a small ticker near the top of one of the screens. It reads: District 12's Earnings. And it's already filling up.

* * *

Walking. Searching for water that's drinkable. Avoiding the others. They talk about their belts that act as flotation devices. They talk about alliances that include Johanna and Beetee and Wiress, though they're nowhere on their map. They talk about how they'll find their meals. My eyes droop and I remind myself that I have to stay awake. I have to watch her. I have to make sure she's okay. That she gets out.

There's a certain anger bubbling in my veins because she's allied herself with Finnick Odair, but the golden bracelet on his wrist reminds me that this must be a good thing. Portia sits with me while Effie goes out and arranges for District 12 to get more money. Portia tells me we don't have to do much considering most people want to get Madge home to me. I'm okay with that.

After hours there's suddenly a bombing. My eyes immediately snap open and I realize that it's the cannons counting off the dead from the bloodbath. I watched them go down from a screen above the one tracking my own tributes. Watched them fall. I didn't know them. Don't want to. Try and squeeze the image of them dying out of my mind. Ten are gone. Ten are dead. Ten closer to this ending forever.

Haymitch pauses for a moment and squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing his temples with a resigned sigh. His friends.

But that doesn't deter them for long. The alliance I've seen formed together marches deep into the jungles. Not forest, nothing I'm used to. But a jungle. Filled with threats I know nothing about. There are screens all over the place that tell me about the mutts in this arena. There are screens that tell me about the poisons and the things that are eatable. I don't bother browsing through them, but Portia does. Every once in a while she'll tell me something she reads.

"They're getting close to the force field," Portia suddenly says. I lift my eyes and stare at the screen.

"What force field?"

"The edge of the arena," she continues. "Haymitch must know that."

"Of course Haymitch knows," Effie suddenly pops up from nowhere. "I remember his Games clear as day. They've changed the force fields though, they're different now."

"Haymitch must know that too," Portia murmurs, staring at the screens. As the two women glancing down my shoulders murmur back and forth about what his strategy must be, a _ding_ rings out from overhead. I watch a few of the Mentors look up and toward other Districts. None look in my direction. 4 and 3 and 7 all nod and then look back toward their screens. I frown in confusion. "The first items can be sent out now," Portia tells me. "From the money."

"Oh," I grunt. I turn my attention to another screen and watch as a variety of gifts ease into view. Their prices are underneath, and all are well within my price range. What should I send, if anything? I watch the screens and wait for whatever gift the other Mentors are sending reach their tributes, and after nothing arrives I decide to send something on my own.

My fingers drag through the items. Food, no they have some. Bottles of water, but what good will it do Madge once it's empty? Eventually my eyes fall on a spile. I've seen this before somewhere but I can't place where. Or why I know what it is. Or what it does. Without hesitation I click it, and press the few verification buttons I need to before it sends.

The parachute is flying through the air in minutes and lands between Haymitch and Madge who are sitting together on a log, eating some nuts.

"Who's it for?" Finnick asks.

"What's it matter?" Haymitch grunts. "It'll go for all of us." Madge says something but her mouth is full so it comes out muffled. "Repeat that one, Hun."

She swallows and laughs. "I _said_ maybe you should open it. It's been _so hard_ for you to make it through the day with such a minimum amount of foul language." Effie chuckles from behind me and I find myself smiling as well. Madge is still Madge.

"Well if it's for us," Haymitch says with a frown, "it would be for you. Hawthorne wouldn't send me jack squat." Mags and Finnick both agree wholeheartedly and then Madge is holding the parachute in her hands. "There, Hawthorne," Haymitch mutters. "I did your bidding for the day."

Madge laughs and shoves Haymitch with her elbow before slowing opening the package. "I haven't the slightest idea what it is," she murmurs, holding it up.

"Spile," Haymitch supplies instantly, no doubt having seen it in his years of being a mentor. He continues to describe its uses as he passes the item around.

Effie smiles brightly from behind me, but then is suddenly tearing up and rushing from the room. I turn toward Portia and lift my eyebrows, but she only shrugs. "Effie and Haymitch were… close. Attached, whether they seemed like it or not." I only nod, remembering the night from a few days ago.

A few days. Has it only really been just that? I scratch at my forehead.

As Haymitch is off talking to Mags and Finnick, Madge sits by herself, fiddling with her hair. "Thanks, Gale," she whispers quietly. I swear I feel my heartbreak. A few of the other Mentors around me glance in my direction. Some nod, others frown. But I can't respond in the least.

* * *

The first day is done and gone. More tributes have passed. Someone figured out that it's a clock. Johanna shows up on the beach. All I can ever do is pay attention to Madge. My eyes follow her whenever she moves. I fear that Finnick will snap and kill her in her sleep, or maybe Johanna will. They fish. They eat. Someone sends them bread that they all share. And now with my spile, they have water.

Madge spends most of her time spinning the ring, or laughing at jokes that she doesn't fully understand. Haymitch knows all of the tributes better than she does, and even from just watching I know that she feels left out. Finnick must notice too, because while Mags and Wiress and Beetee are gathering, and Johanna and Haymitch are sleeping, he takes the spot next to Madge.

"Maybe if you take your shirt off you'll get us more sponsors," Madge hums, barely looking up from the sand to do so.

Finnick chuckles. "I bet the same goes for you." Like hell. But at least he makes Madge laugh. "Listen, Madge. I know you miss Gale. And I know you're scared. You just have to trust that everything'll be alright."

"I know," she murmurs. "I just wish that he'd realize the kind of trouble everyone is in." I frown at her words. What does she mean? "He needs to wake up. Help out." My brain spins at her words. What is she even talking about? I sleep for minutes at a time, forcing Portia to wake me up every time Madge even breathes.

"Don't blame him for things he can't control," Finnick responds. "He's a good guy. Everything'll work out." Madge nods and shifts the sand below her with her toes. "You two made it this far, didn't you?"

"That we did," Madge says with a smile. "I just worry about him."

"He's fine," Finnick says sternly. "And you have to be fine too," Finnick adds. "For _them_." He gestures to her stomach and Madge blinks, forcing herself to nod. "You know, you're not the only one who has someone back home that they're trying to get to."

"I know, Finnick. You told me—" Madge is suddenly cut off by a screech, something so painfully terrifying it sends everyone in the room cringing.

"What _is_ that?" Finnick asks, instantly on his feet with his trident in his hands. But Madge is frozen. And then I realize why. Because it's _me_ screaming. Not me physically in person. Not me here right now. But it sounds like me. Have I ever screamed like that? "Madge, what…" Finnick trails off when he realizes how pale she is. "What is it?"

"It's Gale," she whispers. Madge blinks and leaps to her feet, scanning the area in front of her. "It's Gale! They have Gale!"

Everyone in the room instantly turns to face me but I'm just as frozen as Madge had been when she first heard the noise. This isn't real. I know it's not real. Portia read me the bit about this part of the clock, the fake screams. It's not really me. It's not me. It's meant to tear her down.

"It's not Gale, Madge, there's no way…" he trails off when he hears a bird of his own. "Annie?" We all spin to face the District 4 girl who's been Mentoring alongside us all quietly. Her face is pale and her hands instantly shoot up to cover her ears. She's crying in seconds. "Annie!"

The two sprint into that section of the arena, searching for the birds that scream in pain. I squeeze my eyes shut and force it all to stop. Katniss' screams. Peeta's screams. Prim and my family's screams. Madge's screams. I keep my eyes shut until it all stops, Madge and Finnick huddled together with their hands over their ears. Madge is crying. Am I crying? Portia leads Annie from the room.

"It's not real," Finnick mumbles to her.

"None of this is real," Madge agrees quietly. "None of it."

* * *

Mags dies in the middle of the night to a deadly poison. Someone sends them more bread. Wiress sneaks off in the middle of the night murmuring something to herself and runs into the career pack, who takes her out easily. Tidal waves. Bugs. Blood rain. Everything mushes together in my head and slowly starts to fade from my brain. None of it makes sense and it all feels wrong. My head aches and my vision swims.

"Gale, stay awake," Portia scolds me. But she sounds like my mother. And Effie shoos Portia, telling her to _let me sleep_. I try to get both of them to leave me alone but they don't.

My heart beats a steady pounding of Madge. Madge. Madge. I have to save her. After everything, I have to save her. I owe her my life. I have to tell her how much she means to me.

"Listen to me," Portia grabs my chin and forces me to open my eyes. Have I slept at all? "What they're planning? It's going to work. Gale, listen," she snaps near my ears. "It's going to work. And you're going to have to get out."

"I don't understand."

"When I say go, go. Okay?"

"Portia—"

"Just agree with me," she growls.

"Okay!"

Beetee sets the trap. Johanna and Madge – Madge? – run the wire. Déjà vu buzzes through my veins as the image spins before me. "Now, Gale," Portia mumbles. "Go now." I force myself to my feet while trying to tear my eyes from the screen. Wrong, wrong. It seems wrong. Where's Peeta? His leg made him stay behind. Doesn't she have her arrows? "_Gale_, _now_!"

I stumble behind me as the people in the room rise in panic. Murmurs and grumbles and hisses fill the air. Brutus is going to kill him. Kill who? Where's…

The arena explodes and the entire chamber shifts. I slide on my foot and knock my head against the wall. Pain stretches through my system and overwhelms me. Fire surrounds my soul and climbs up my legs. Screams of those I couldn't save echo in my ears. And finally, _finally_, I am asleep.

* * *

Because when I wake I am home. And the air is fresh and clean. And my mother is hovering over me, crying and shaking me and shouting to the others.

"He's awake! Someone get Mrs. Everdeen!" I sit up in a panic but someone – Thom? – holds me down. "Oh, baby," my mother is crying and gripping me as tight as she can. "You're awake, _you're awake_!"

"What are you—" I try to speak but my throat is rough. Scratchy. Like I haven't drunk anything in days. Like I've been breathing in dust.

My head spins and I jerk backwards away from her. She's covered in coal. Coal? No, ash. I lift my gaze looking for beach or sand or something that would make all of this make sense. But all I see is forest. Woods. My woods. My forest. My family. My District. And then suddenly, everything clicks.


	43. Book 3: Chapter 43

My mother washes the ash from my face while Mrs. Everdeen examines my head. Posy tugs on my arm and asks me if I had a nice nap. Rory tips his head in my direction but is off somewhere, holding Prim and shielding her away from the darkness that surrounds us.

Thom's been doing a great job holding down the fort while I've been… out. Fishing and finding some of the snares I've set up and setting up a few of his own. Vick's been helping, or at least as much as a boy his age can. A few from the mines are working together to work on some sort of gathering system. But now that I'm awake I can hunt for a bit once Mrs. Everdeen clears it for me.

One day. I was only out for one day.

The visions that swam in my fantasy slowly fade from me. The dreams I conjured up all on my own are gone within minutes of waking up. The only thing I can remember from them is _Madge_.

"Undersee's fine," Thom tells me as he hands me some berries. "You made sure of that. It's her damn fault that you're in the condition you're in." I lift an eyebrow and chug a cup of water, waiting for him to further explain. "It was an obvious danger, running back into the bombings like that. Dammit Gale, don't you remember anything?"

"He was hit on the head," my mother scolds him. "Of course he barely remembers what happened."

Oh I remember enough. I remember panic. Katniss shooting an arrow into the force field. The power flickering out. Screaming. Lots of screaming. Trying to get everyone out as fast as I could. I remember the fire. I remember the ground shaking beneath me. The terror. Sweaty hands. Buildings collapsing. I remember much more than I need to.

"What happened?" I force out. Though I'm awake I'm not allowed to do much. My mother's happy that I'm awake, as is Mrs. Everdeen, but they say there's no rush for me to get on my feet. "Details."

"Hell if I know," Thom grunts out. "Found me in the middle of the chaos and shouting something about checking on Undersee. That's all I know. I remember thinking 'hell, if Gale dies I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do to Hazelle'."

"And then poor little Madge found us all, oh, she was in hysterics," my mother continues, wiping at her forehead. "She was dragging your seemingly lifeless body behind her shouting about how you got hit on the head by some falling debris."

"Pulled you here herself," Thom says, a surprising about of respect to his voice. "Hell, I don't even know if I could've done that."

I blink and rub at my head. The mark is evident from where I was hit. A deep scrape that might scar. "Can I see her?" I ask. The only thing I can conjure of Madge Undersee at the moment is the mayor's daughter. Sitting pretty with her hair perfectly curled. Clean and shining.

"Mrs. Everdeen said you're to stay here," my mom says quickly, her eyebrows knitting. I know she's just worried. She's terrified that if I up and walk away that I won't come back. That's clear enough.

"Let him see the blonde girl, Mommy," Posy coos. My little sister marches over and tugs on my mother's shirt. "She's been asking!" My mom looks down at Posy and frowns, watching the small girl smile and nod her head enthusiastically. I thank heaven that she's still here. Smiling and bright as always. "Please, Momma. Let Gale see her!"

Eventually, my mother nods. "Alright. But make it quick, Gale, okay? And come back right away when you're done."

"Course, Ma," I smile weakly and jerk my head into a nod.

Moments later I'm on my feet, stumbling around the place we've made home. Some sit by the lake, others are under the trees. My eyes scan until I find the only three blondes in the entire place. Delly Cartwright, her younger brother, and Madge Undersee.

She sees me before I see her. I can feel her gaze. And when I look up and notice that she's watching me she doesn't tear her eyes away. She blinks. Once. Twice. Her lips quirk into a gentle smile for a moment. I find myself unable to move toward her. What am I supposed to say? Thanks for dragging me halfway through the end of the world? Congratulations that you're still alive? A few seconds later Delly realizes that Madge is watching me, and she gets up, taking her younger brother with her so Madge is alone.

Still, I pause. It's so strange to see her like this. Her golden hair isn't as bright, matted down in dirt and ash. Her smooth skin is coated in the remnants of the night. Despite never being the best at words, I know I have to talk to her. I have to say something. Anything.

As I make my way towards her she lifts herself from her seat, steadying herself on her own two feet. And as I reach her, she doesn't hesitate to throw her arms around me, burying her face into my chest.

* * *

"_Why'd you give her your pin?" I ask. It's more of a demand than a question. Anger boils in my system. Since when does she have the right?_

"_It'll keep her safe," Madge explains quickly, wiping at her eyes. And since when is it okay for her to cry over Katniss? "I know it will."_

"_Don't be an idiot," I growl at her. "A pin's going to do jack shit. You want to help Katniss? How about you donate half your savings to her? Or maybe you should've volunteered instead. Maybe _you _should've been reaped." I clamp my mouth shut after the words spout out, shocked that I said that so loudly. Madge only blinks up at me through her teary eyes. _

"_I wanted to," she whispers. "Katniss was too fast."_

* * *

_I try to make the strawberry trade quick, not wanting to look her in the eye. It takes her forever to answer the door because she's playing that damn piano, the noise echoing through the house. As I wait I allow my eyes to close, letting the beauty of the sound fill me up. We have instruments in the Seam but nothing is ever this sharp. This clear. She's good too, and I hate it. Why does she have to be so good at the damn piano?_

_Eventually Madge opens the door. Her eyes are red but I won't say anything. "Berries," I mutter, holding out the basket. _

_Slowly she accepts it, reaching to a jar on a table near the door and pulling out the coins. She thrusts them into my hands quickly before I can make any comment about how she's overpaying. _

"_I know you didn't mean what you said," Madge whispers. "About me being reaped. You're just angry." She stares at me for a very long time, her blue eyes locked with mine. "You wanted to volunteer. I know you did. You missed your chance too."_

_I walk away without saying anything else._

* * *

"_I like the guy from 11," Thom tells me at lunch, pointing to the image of the hulking boy. "He's got spunk."_

"_The only tribute you should like is Katniss," I growl. _

"_Well, besides Katniss," Thom says. He stares at the picture for a very long time. "He's doing what I'd do. Be super terrifying for all the viewers but he's actually just terrified himself. He's probably super sweet with that little girl." I frown, tearing my eyes from the screen. They shouldn't make us watch this crap during lunch. Shouldn't make us watch this crap at all. "He's a lot like me, I know it."_

"_Stop it."_

"_Hey, I'm just saying," Thom shrugs. He continues to stare at the screen. "They're people too. They have families. Live somewhere. Maybe they have a pet or skip school. I don't know. But they're more than just tributes, Gale." I already know that. _

* * *

_My eyes find her without really meaning to. She sits alone, chewing her nails down to stubs. Guilt prickles through my system. She used to sit with Katniss. I knew that they were friends, what I said was rude. My mother would have my head if she could. No matter how much I wish she and Katniss weren't linked somehow, they are. So I feel like I have to make it up to her, somehow. I push myself from the side of the wall and take the seat next to her. _

_Madge glances at me with worried eyes but eventually returns to staring at the screen. She doesn't say anything other than, "Eleven."_

_And I repeat, "Eleven." _

_Because maybe Katniss actually does have a chance of coming home. _

* * *

_Peeta Mellark's interview shakes me to my core. Catnip. My Catnip. Suddenly his? I go to the only place I can think of, the woods. Or at least I try to. I can't hop the fence, the electricity is still on so it can replay his confession of love over and over again. Catnip. Katniss. Girl on fire. No longer mine. Never mine to begin with. _

_I couldn't even get out the words I wanted to say to her. Katniss, I— _

"_Thought you'd be out here," a voice breezes from over my shoulder. Her footsteps were nearly silent, I'm surprised I didn't hear her. "You left the square so quickly, I thought maybe you were going to throw up." I glance once at Madge and then return my gaze to the fence that I'm not allowed to cross._

_Can't cross the fence. Can't have Katniss ever again. Can't get this blonde off my back. _

_She takes the spot next to me and pulls on the grass with her fingers. "What do you want, Undersee?" I hiss. I'm in no mood to deal with her. _

"_Can't I just sit here?" she asks innocently. And honestly, that's all it is. Innocence. She isn't here to piss me off. She isn't here to make me angry. And that's what makes me angry. _

"_Just go home," I snap. "Go back to your fancy house where everyone loves you and you can play your stupid piano and—"_

"_Stop it!" Madge cuts me off heatedly. "Stop blaming me for everything that's happened!" Again I clamp my lips shut and watch as she buries her face into her knees. "Katniss is my friend too. So is Peeta. And maybe I wasn't in love with him like you are with Katniss but that doesn't make it hurt any less that only one of them can come home." _

"_I'm not in love with—"_

"_Yes you are," she whimpers. "Why else would you run off so fast?" She sniffles into her dress and keeps her gaze away from me. "If I were to go home now, no one would be there. My mother would be sleeping, knocked out on morphling. My father's too busy to hold a decent conversation with me. It's not as though they don't love me, they do, but just because I have money doesn't mean my life is perfect." Madge wipes at her eyes and finally lifts her head, though she won't look at me. "Everyone has problems, Gale, not just you."_

"_He made Katniss look weak," I grit out. That's the only problem as of right now. _

"_He made Katniss desirable," Madge corrects. "And he meant what he said. Whether you believe it or not, Peeta's a nice guy. And he cares about Katniss and is trying to help her in a way that you can't." I only frown, continuing to stare at her as though she's the very reason this has happened. _

"_Bread boy doesn't have a chance at getting home," I tell her._

"_He doesn't plan to come home. He plans to get Katniss home. Peeta doesn't want to come back here anyway, not with his mother the way she is." Madge pauses and fiddles with her hair while I process her words. "But yes, he _does_ have a fair chance at coming home. He's strong. Has spent most of his life dodging hits and hiding. Smart enough." _

_It clicks suddenly. The woman from the bakery who never has a kind word to say about anyone. Hits her children? The revelation washes over me and makes me angry once more. It isn't enough that we've got the Capitol breathing down our necks, but we can't even trust our own parents to watch over us and keep us safe. For a moment I wish that Madge had the same sort of punishment. It isn't fair that she gets to live such a high and mighty life. But I push the thoughts from me instantly, because no one deserves to be hit by their parents._

"_Why are you here, Undersee?" I finally ask. All anger has dissipated from my voice and has been replaced with tiredness. It's strange enough the things she's shared with me tonight. Since when has she cared? Ever? When has she ever wanted to tell me about her life before? We're not friends. Not strangers, but not friends. _

"_I told you," she whispers. "I just wanted to sit." _

_So we sit._

* * *

_Being officially known as Katniss' cousin throws me over the edge. I storm to the Undersee mansion with fire burning in my eyes and pound on the backdoor. Madge answers it quickly and escorts me into the garden, muttering something about the people who're staying in her house. She takes me behind the shed and lowers herself to the ground, holding up her finger to her mouth and reminding me to be as quiet as possible._

"_For the love of God," I groan, collapsing against the side of the shed. "I'm not her _cousin_."_

"_I know that," Madge says. "And you know that. And plenty of people know that. But for this whole angle with Peeta to work out, that's how it has to be." I grunt into my hands and rub at my face. "It's not your fault you're so good looking," she adds quietly. I quickly lift my head to face her and find her cheeks only a little pink. "Must be the hair."_

"_Maybe they should call _you_ Peeta's cousin, then," I say, reaching over to toy with her bangs. She flutters her eyelashes a few times before letting her eyes fall shut. "You have nice hair too." _

* * *

_The look in Katniss' eyes after she kills the boy from District 1 is terrifying. For a moment I'm terrified that I've lost her. That Prim's lost her. That we've all lost her to them but then she blinks, and is instantly focused on the little girl from 11 again. With a short sigh of relief I slump backwards into my seat, listening to the collective breath everyone around me releases. _

_Madge's hand turns slack around mine and I glance down at her, finding her chewing on her bottom lip. Eventually she pulls her hand out of mine and tugs on the tips of her hair, a nervous habit I've noticed that she has. I almost want to force my hand back into hers, tell her that it's okay if she wants to hold tight. _

_Later during the replays she tells me, "I thought she was going to turn into one of them."_

"_Me too," I agree, though hesitantly. It still sort of unnerves me that our opinions overlap in so many different areas. _

"_The way her eyes turned dark," Madge shudders and squeezes her hands open and closed, most likely to calm herself. "Sometimes I… sometimes I think that if I were to be reaped that I'd turn into a monster."_

"_Not you," I protest immediately. "You're too soft." _

_Madge snorts and rubs at her forehead. "You don't know me, Gale."_

"_I know you're not a monster. A survivor, maybe, but we're all survivors in this hellhole. You'd do whatever it took to get out. Any of us would." _

* * *

_I'm watching the Games with Madge in her living room the first time Katniss kisses Peeta. For so long I had always imagined that I'd be the one to do that. Madge clutches my hand tightly and murmurs my name quietly. "It's all for the Games," she whispers._

"_No it's not," I respond back. Eventually her fingers lace with mine and the feeling is so reassuring and comforting it's as though I can breathe again. This isn't Katniss anymore. Katniss isn't some lovesick girl. Katniss doesn't do things like this. "But that's okay, I guess."_

"_I'm sorry," Madge says quietly. As though it's her fault. But it isn't her fault. I know it isn't her fault. _

"_Don't be." Slowly she turns to me and edges herself to her knees, and then Madge leans forward and kisses my cheek. I allow my eyes to shut at the interaction, savoring the warm sensation it sends through my veins. Before I can help myself I turn my face. Our noses bump and I resist the urge to press my lips against hers. I want nothing more than her warmth to engulf me entirely. "Madge," I murmur. She doesn't respond vocally, only letting out a shaky breath. "I'm glad you're here." _

* * *

_Madge waits on the platform a few rows behind me as we wait for Katniss to arrive on the train. Peeta in tow. I'm not sure if it makes me angry that he's coming home with her or if it's just a fact now. It's not like I wanted the kid to die, but at the same time it's not like I want Katniss snatched up by someone other than me._

_As I watched my friend through the Games I watched her changing. She's not the same Katniss that left. And I guess I'm not the same Gale either. I've started at the mines. I've made a new… friend. I've weighed my options. I glance at her over my shoulder and she offers a light smile. _

_And when the train arrives and Katniss steps off, I know she's different. I need to say goodbye to my Katniss before I can move on with my life. _

_So when I see her that first Sunday in the woods, I kiss her goodbye. And I take a deep breath of fresh air. Because I know that things are changing. _

* * *

"_Dammit, Gale," Thom mutters as he hacks away on the wall of the mine. "The mayor's _daughter_? You're shitting me!" _

"_I'm not," I say back. "She's different than I thought."_

"_Yeah, but she's still the mayor's daughter," he points out with a smirk. "You're not even one to mess around with girls from town, but the mayor's _daughter_?" He knocks his helmet against the wall and lets out a deep breath. "I mean whatever, man. You like her then you like her. Who the hell am I to judge?" _

"_Thank you," I breathe. And it's not even that I like her. Not really. I just like spending time with her. Listening to her talk. Watching her fingers curl through her hair. Seeing her chew her bottom lip when she disagrees with what I say or can't find the right words to respond right away. _

"_Just know that she's a merchant's daughter, and you're a miner." I frown as he speaks. "I support you, you know I do, but…" he trails off, pausing as he works._

"_But what, Thom?"_

"_But you're never gonna be good enough for her, Gale." I drop my pickaxe down and lean against it, watching him through narrowed eyes. "You're no Victor. You're just… you. We're always going to be a step down from her."_

_I lock my jaw and keep my mouth shut. Because he's mostly right. I'm not Victor. And I'm never going to be good enough for the mayor's daughter. But that doesn't mean I can't like the sound of her laugh. Or the freckles on her nose. Or spending time with her. And maybe I'm a miner, but I'm also a Hawthorne. And I think that makes me good enough for someone. Why not her?_

"_You like people who are a challenge," Thom tells me. "Katniss was a challenge because she didn't want to get married. Undersee's a challenge because she's, well, Undersee." _

"_That's not why I like her," I grunt._

"_So you _do_ like her," he says, tapping his chin. "Enough for a confession and everything. Interesting." I growl and reach for my pickaxe, quickly lifting it and hammering against the wall. Of course he doesn't understand. His newfound relationship with Bristel is clouding his judgment. "Gale, I'm only giving you a hard time because it's my job. You're my best friend. Hell, if you like her, don't let her slip away. Alright?" _

"_Alright," I jerk my head into a nod. Then suddenly, I can smile again._

* * *

_The flash of the camera throws me off kilter. For a moment I think it's an interviewer and begin to get angry. Haven't I answered enough questions about my _cousin_? But when I find Madge holding up some old clunker of a camera my lips slip into a smile. "The hell was that for?" I ask as she lowers it._

"_I don't have any pictures of you," she says kindly, her lips curling upward. _

"_And what do you need a picture of me for, Undersee?" _

"_My scrapbook," Madge supplies. "You're a much bigger part of my life than you might realize, Gale Hawthorne." And I guess I don't realize what she says, because the comment flies right over my head. Instead my eyes are focused on the light pink that tinges her cheeks, looking even more sweet than usual. "What're you looking at me like that for?" she asks, laughing a bit as she does so. _

_Not really realizing that I was looking at her in any certain way I only shrug. "Just surprised you have a camera, is all." Everyone knows she's good at the piano, but photography? That's a new one._

_Madge lowers herself to the ground and fiddles with the contraption in her hands. "I used to love taking pictures, but there's not much here to take pictures of." She sighs and looks up at me, waiting for me to join her in the dirt. And eventually I do. "I think District 12 is beautiful. Really. In its own way, apart from all the other District's. But not many people do, so they would always tell me how horrible my pictures were." Madge frowns. "I guess I'll stick with the piano." _

"_What about 12 is beautiful?" I grumble. _

"_The way most of these families look at each other. The sense of community on most days. The meadow." She squints and looks up toward the sky. "It's stupid."_

"_It's not stupid." _

_Madge glances back down at me and instantly smiles, chewing on her bottom lip like she wants to say something but is stopping herself. After a moment she asks, "Do you want to try?"_

"_Try the camera?" I chuckle and shake my head. "There's nothing to take a picture of." _

"_Here," she thrusts it into my hands. "Go on. I'm sure there's something beautiful around here. You have that… that sense about you. Like you can find beauty in anything." I weigh the camera in my hands and glance around the area around us. Some dead grass. A tree that's losing all of its leaves. Beauty in anything? "You just press that button there when you're ready. Point and shoot. It's that simple." Suddenly I lift the camera and point it at her, clicking the button before she can protest. I've caught her mid-smile, dragging her hand through her hair as she watches me. She laughs and meets my eyes. "Me?"_

"_You said to find the beauty," I murmur. Again her cheeks flush pink and she drops her eyes back to the camera. "Get me that picture, yeah?"_

"_Sure," Madge nods. And then laughs. She takes the camera back into her own hands and does what I had. Weighing it. Madge extends her arm and points the camera at us. "Smile," she tells me. It only makes me frown. She nudges my side and gets me to flinch, and takes the camera as a laugh leaps from my throat. _

"_That wasn't fair," I scold her, but a smile is still pressed on my face. Madge only giggles, bringing up the camera again and snapping another picture of me. "Hey, stop that!" I snatch the camera from her hands and bring it up to my eye, focusing on her before capturing a few more of her. _

"_Alright, alright!" Madge grins and throws her hands up. "Enough!" I chuckle and lower the camera, grinning at her brightly. "Can we _please_ take a good one? Now that I have thousands of blurry ones in my film?"_

"_Yeah, come here," I order. Madge instantly wiggles up to the spot next to me and I drop my arm around her shoulder. I position the camera out from us and drop my mouth down next to her ear, whispering, "Smile, Madge."_

* * *

"_It's all such bullshit," I grumble, staring up at the sky. "Having him propose like that in front of everyone. No one's falling for it. It's complete and utter bullshit!"_

"_Gale," Madge says quietly. _

"_Bull_crap_," I mutter. She doesn't like it when I curse. "I mean really, though. Who the hell would want to be proposed to like that? In front of the entire world. Fake. Fake as day."_

"_But what he said was true," Madge tells me. "Genuine."_

"_Yeah, everything Mellark does is genuine. I know." I scratch at my chin, knowing I have to watch what I say about the bread boy considering he and Madge are friends. "You want to know what I'd do?"_

"_Sure," she hums. I also know that Madge doesn't like it much when I rant, but she lets me anyway. And that's what I like about her. Katniss would always scold me or shoot me down, but Madge just listens. _

"_I'd do all that fake stuff on stage, and then a real proposal. A nice one. Just for me and her." Madge cringes when I say that. "Not me and Katniss," I add quickly, wondering if that's how she took it. "Just me and the girl. Whoever she ought to be. I mean I'm no Victor but if I were and had to do that…" I trail off and sigh, glancing up at the stars. "I don't have to do that though, so." _

_Madge plays with the grass by her hands and sighs. "I don't think I'll ever get married," she says quietly._

"_Why not?" Katniss never wanted to get married either, and there she is on stage with Mellark. "Family's always been important to me."_

"_I know," Madge nods. "But I mean… my family is never around. I don't know how to be a mom. Or a wife. I can't cook. Can't clean. I'm virtually useless."_

"_You're not useless, Madge." I prop myself up on my elbow and stare down at her. "Hell, you're the best listener I know. And you just deal with everything instead of putting it off." She watches me carefully with a guarded expression. "You're sweet and beautiful. You've got this attitude no one knows anything about that's extremely hot." Madge laughs a bit, shaking her head at me. "Any guy would be lucky to have you." _

"_Alright, Gale," she laughs. _

"_Matter of fact," I lift myself up to one knee and turn to her as she sits up. "Madge Undersee, will you marry me?"_

_Again she laughs, loudly, and shakes her head. "You're crazy," Madge says._

"_Am not. Listen, I may not love you, not yet, but I could, I think. One day." And I mean it. _

_All the humor dissipates from her face as she blinks up at me. "Really?" _

_I nod. "Really." I lift the chain I wear around my neck from me and place it over her head. "And I don't have a ring with me so this'll have to do." She continues to blink, the smallest smile taking over her features as she stares down at. "What do you say?"_

_Madge licks her lips and her cheeks turn bright pink. "I'd be honored to marry you, Gale Hawthorne." _

_I can't help the chuckle that escapes me as she launches herself toward me, throwing her arms around my neck. And when she pulls away, she doesn't get too far, because Madge is suddenly smashing her lips against mine. The kiss freezes me, but only temporarily. My hands cup her cheeks gently, not allowing her to get too far from me. One of her hands slips up my face and she tangles her fingers in my hair, the other clutches at my shirt. Her lips are warm and soft and sweet and exactly as I would've expected them to be, only better. Our noses bump and we pull away panting, gasping for breath. _

"_Sorry," she squeaks instantly. So I lean forward and kiss her again. Only a lot less frantic and a lot longer. And this time when we part, she doesn't apologize. _

* * *

_When she plays the piano for me I melt in a way I hadn't known possible. She tries to teach me the keys but my hands are bigger than hers and not nearly as gentle. I may be good at making snares but I'm practically an idiot when it comes to the piano. _

"_I remember you played for a school play once, or something," I mumble. "A recital. I don't know."_

_She giggles and presses a key. "I only did that once. I hated being in front of all of those people. I usually freeze up whenever anyone I know listens to me. It's a lot easier to play for the Capitol strangers, but when people from the District hear me…" she trails off and bites down on her bottom lip._

"_You played for me," I point out._

"_Well that's different," she insists. "You're different." And then I realize that it isn't the piano that makes me melt, it's the girl. _

* * *

_Saturday nights with Madge become the one thing I look forward to after a long week in the mines. I slip into her backyard or she follows me to the meadow. Every once in a while she'll eat dinner at my house. We always sneak in kisses. Or at least I try to. There's something about her kisses that make me tingle in a way no one else has ever been able to do. _

_Except tonight I know something is off. I try to get her to come outside but she only stands on her porch, whispering something about how tonight isn't a good night._

"_Why not?" I ask, irritation flooding my system. I spend day after day stuck down in the mines and she can't take a night off for me? "What's wrong with tonight?"_

"_It's just that my dad is acting really strange so I think I should stay in and comfort him," she murmurs, tugging on the chain she wears around her neck. She knows it wasn't a real proposal but I insisted she keep the necklace anyway. "He's never like this."_

"_Well maybe I can come in?"_

"_No, Gale," Madge shakes her head. "That isn't a good idea."_

"_And why not?" I snap. "Doesn't he know about me?"_

"_Of course he does," she answers instantly, "but I'm telling you that something's wrong. There're some new people coming on the train tonight and some family time is what we need—"_

"_If you're ashamed of me then just tell me," I growl. "Scared of getting some coal dust on your carpet?" _

"_Oh, stop it," she frowns at me. "Why're you acting like this?"_

"_Why can't I come inside?"_

"_I already told you that I—"_

"_Forget it," I grumble. "See you later, Madge."_

"_Gale," she tries again, but I'm too far gone, marching out of her yard without turning back around. _

_The next day in the woods Katniss tests my patience. Warns me that President Snow threatened to have me personally killed. Tells me all about the mess she's made. Asks to run away. And I'm so overwhelmed with joy from the idea that I scoop her into my arms and spin. Run away? Run away! Finally, someone understands! _Katniss_ understands! Maybe she is still here after all._

_And the, "I love you," slips out before I can stop it._

_But then she responds with, "I know." Reality swoops back in. Reminds me to wake up. My momentary lapse in judgment stings like a bee in the summer. I don't love her. I can't. Not after how she's changed and left. Not after all that's happened. And I know that this is all some sort of dream. Running away. _

_So I snap at her. I snap at Katniss because I'm mad at Madge and I snap at her because I'm not good enough for either of them. But she doesn't know any of this. And then with the news of an uprising in 8 I'm thrown through another loop. I most certainly want to stay now. And then I'm gone, marching through the woods at my own expense._

_I spent the rest of the day angry. Angry at myself for being so short with Madge the night before, and angry that I'm just some lousy miner who can't do jack shit to make a difference. If I was a Victor, that'd be a different story. If I was a Victor I could inspire people, or at least try to. I could change the way people think. But I'm not. I'm just a miner._

_And then I make the biggest mistake of my life. And I end up on a whipping post. And I see Madge in the crowd, her eyes filled with tears and her cheeks whiter than the snow that falls. And then I see nothing but blood and feel nothing but pain._

_But hours – at least it feels like hours – later I hear a voice. And it's hers. "Use these for your friend," she says. And moments later the pain is gone. And Madge is the only person on my mind from that point on._

* * *

"_You saved my life," I murmur, pulling Madge into my arms before she can even say anything. I refuse to believe anything else. The pain was unbearable. Without the medicine it wouldn't have stopped. It would have stolen me away. "Even after I yelled at you."_

"_It's what we do," she mumbles into my chest. "We yell and make up. That's okay." _

"_I love you," I tell her. Bending down so she can hear me. And this confession of love is no accident. "Madge, I love you." She shakes her head so I kiss her nose. "I do. Stop doing that."_

"_You can't," Madge whimpers. _

"_I do," I insist. _

"_Only because I brought you medicine."_

"_No. Because I do. Dammit, I love you. I love your voice and your hands and your smile and your freckles and your hair. I love your determination and your bravery and the fire that burns inside you no one but me knows about. I love you."_

_Madge glances up and locks her eyes with me. "I love you too," she chokes out, shaking her head as her eyes fill with tears. "You stupid idiot," she adds, thumping me on the chest. "Maybe not to the point of marriage, not yet," she adds quietly, a bit of a smile to her lips, "but that doesn't mean I don't love you." _

_And when we kiss, it feels like the very first time._

* * *

"_This is my father's office," Madge whispers, stepping into the room on her tiptoes and leaning a certain way so the floor doesn't squeak. "Careful."_

"_Why are you whispering?" I laugh. Instantly she holds her finger up to her lips and throws an angry glance over her shoulder at me. Instantly my voice drops and I whisper too. "Sorry." Eventually she's all the way in the room, beckoning for me to follow. "Where's your dad?"_

"_Justice Hall," she murmurs. Madge glances up at the screens on the wall and frowns. I look too and find nothing but static. I'm guessing District 12 is behind held out of the loop for now, though I'm not really surprised after what Katniss told me about District 8. Madge crosses the room to her father's desk and I shut the door behind us, leaving it open just a smidge so the clicking of it won't alert anyone. "He usually leaves his paper out," she says with a frown, filing through some folders that are on the desk._

"_Maybe he took it with him?" I suggest._

"_No, he would've left it." Despite being in this strange new room I can't find myself staring at anything but Madge. Her eyebrows are knitted in pure determination as she rifles through things she shouldn't be sticking her nose in and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't driving me insane. "I can't find anything," she grunts, dropping her stare on the desk and stepping away angrily. "Dammit, I know that I—"_

"_Madge," I cut her off quietly. It takes only seconds for me to cross the room to her. My hands slide down her arms and I tug her towards me. "It's alright."_

"_This is the only thing I can do," she tells me, shaking her head dreadfully. "I can't teach snares like you or give medical advice like Prim. This is the only way I can help them prepare for the Quell and—"_

"_You're helping plenty," I insist. "You don't need to bring the paper every day. They'll understand if you miss one every once in a while." But still, she shakes her head. "Madge," I breathe. I graze my arms up her sides until I reach her head, running my fingers gently down her cheeks and pulling her face into my hands. "I'm upset about the Quell too. But this doesn't all fall on you."_

"_I just want to help," she chokes out, blinking rapidly as to avoid my gaze. _

"_You are," I say again. _

_But this doesn't need to be all about Katniss and Peeta and Haymitch. I dip down and kiss her neck gently, silently pleading that she'll take a deep breath and let go of reality for a moment. The moment my lips touch her skin she clutches my shirt, pulling me as close to her as she possibly can without letting my grip loosen. Madge tangles her fingers up through my hair and lets out a shaky breath. _

"_What are you doing?" she asks quietly. _

"_Giving you a break from work," I murmur back._

"_Gale," she tries to stop me but I'm kissing her again, dipping down her neck and across her collarbone. Her skin fleshes with goosebumps and she shivers, bunching her hands against my shirt. "I don't think this is a good idea."_

"_Why not?"_

"_We're in my father's office," she forces out. And yet, she doesn't sound too upset. Light, gentle kisses over her skin. Every place my mouth can reach. Why does she like these damn cardigans so much? "Gale, I don't…" she trails off and drops her hands to my belt loops._

"_Tell me to stop," I demand. "If you don't want this then tell me to stop." _

_But Madge says nothing, and allows her mouth to curve into a slight smile. I grin, continuing my work down her neck. I can feel her heart beating – or is that mine? – and it only makes the situation that much more alluring. Every once in a while she'll gasp or giggle. Soon enough I decide that we're not close enough. I drop my hands down and hoist her up into my arms. Madge instantly locks her ankles around me and we stumble together through her father's office until she lands on the desk. _

"_Gale," she pants. Her hands slide up my neck and tease my hair. Her breath is heavy and intoxicating in my ear. _

"_Want me to stop?"_

"_No."_

"_Then what do you want?"_

"_For the love of God," she nearly groans. "I want you to kiss me." _

_I grin again and hover my mouth over hers. "As you wish." _

_From here I can feel her breathing. Her eyes are the brightest most tempting blue I've ever seen and I crash my lips against hers, needing to taste her. Our lips collide frantically as her hands search my body, unsure of where they want to stay. Skin against skin, my hands over her waist and through her hair. I can't get enough of Madge Undersee. And even if I could I still think I'd want more. _

_God, this is what we need. A break. I'm tired of talking about the Quell. I'm tired of always being concerned with other people's business. I just want her. Madge. All of her. Right now. As I go to break the kiss, ask her for the directions to her bed which would most certainly be more comfortable than this desk, someone clears their throat from the doorway. _

_Madge and I part instantly, both snapping around to see who's ruining the best moment of my entire life in one swift motion. Her ankles drop from around me and hit the desk with a thud, her eyes are wide and her cheeks are flushed. _

"_I came to clean," the voice of the Undersee's maid rings out, "but it would appear that you're busy, Ms. Undersee. Shall I come back at another time?" _

_Madge lifts her hand to her mouth and coughs weakly, lightly pressing on my chest so I move backwards. My hands slide from her waist and she drops down from the desk she'd been sitting on. "We'll just be going," she tells her maid through a shaking voice. _

_Madge links her hand with mine and pulls me from her father's office at lightning speed, tugging me into her room and slamming the door shut before anyone says anything else. And then we're laughing. Laughing hysterically to the point where it physically hurts. Laughing to the point of being unable to breathe. And we laugh until our lips find each other's again. Because we really needed this break._

* * *

_I meet her mother days before Katniss leaves for the Quell. Mrs. Undersee is a sickly woman. Bedridden. Quieter than Madge yet just as kind. She asks me all kinds of questions. My favorite tea. My favorite books. She asks me to keep her daughter safe, and I tell her I will. I'll keep her safe. _

_When we leave I hear Mrs. Undersee tell Madge, "He's a nice boy. I like him a lot."_

_Madge responds, "Me too." _

_In the hall Madge tells me it isn't often that her mother gets visitors. And here is where she tells me about Maysilee. Her aunt that died in the Quarter Quell. The one who was allied with Haymitch. The reason her mother is stuck in bed with terrible headaches. _

"_The pin was hers," Madge tells me. "The Mockingjay one."_

"_You gave it to Katniss," I mutter, almost angrily. A part of her life. A very important part of her life. Now in the hands of Katniss. "Why?"_

"_I told you. I knew it would keep her safe. It still will."_

* * *

_When Haymitch's name is pulled and Peeta volunteers I become irrationally angry. Couldn't the baker just have let him go? Stay home and wait for Katniss to get back? Now she's going to let herself lose just so he can win, I can see it in her eyes. She doesn't plan on coming home because she wants to give that blonde little shit a second chance at life._

_Why couldn't Peeta have just let her go? Katniss is strong. She would've come back without any trouble. I know her. I know she could've done it. But now? Now she doesn't have any reason to get back because she's so in love with that kid that's going in the arena with her. She doesn't even know it yet._

"_I wish someone could overrule a volunteer," I grumble to Madge. Haymitch could've volunteered. Dammit I wish he would've. Could've. It's not fair. _

"_I wish someone could overrule this entire thing," she whispers back. "But that's not how this works."_

* * *

_When Peeta announces Katniss' pregnancy I can't say I'm surprised. The boy has a way with words. Madge laughs and shakes her head. _

"_We talked about it," she tells me quietly when she knows that no one is listening. "I kept saying, 'Peeta, you won't actually say that.' But he did. Oh, I can't believe he said that." I would laugh, too, if I was sure that Katniss would be coming home. But I'm not. So I keep my mouth shut. "He's going to do everything to get her back home," Madge whispers. "You know that."_

"_I know that," I repeat with a nod. And yet the feeling as though I've lost is more overwhelming than I can explain._

* * *

_We fight the night of the bombings. Screaming about things that don't matter. I slip up and say something about Katniss. She slaps me. I spit on the ground in front of her. She shoves me out of the fence, yelling about how immature I am but I just hop back over it. She calls me worthless. I call her Princess because I know she hates it. She tells me that Katniss will never love me. I tell her that her family will never love her. She tells me she wishes I had been reaped. I tell her I wish she had been reaped._

_She cries. I apologize but she shoves me away. She yanks the necklace from her and throws it at me. I slip it over my head without even trying to get her to take it back. I apologize again but she calls me stupid. A stupid miner. She mutters something about how I'll never love her and I get angry all over again. _

"_You think I'll never love you?" I growl. "For fuck's sake!"_

"_Don't you _dare _use those words with me!" _

"_You are the _only _person I love, Madge," I tell her. I drop to my knees in front of her. "You're the only person I want to be with."_

"_Don't lie to me," she chokes out. _

"_I don't lie to you and you know that. I've never lied to you. I told you when I hated you. And I told you when I loved you. And I told you when your ideas were shit and when you were a genius. You are the one person I will never lie to." Madge shakes her head and shoves at my chest, trying to get me to leave. To leave. So I leave. Because fuck it, she deserves better than me anyway. _

_And when the first bomb falls she's the first thing on my mind. I refuse to let our story end this way, with bitter words that don't make any sense. I get my family out. I get the Everdeen's out. And I run. I run as fast as I can to her house because I do, I love her. God, I love her, and if I lose her because of this I will never forgive myself._

_She barely opens the door in time. I don't give her time to cry out for her parents. I don't give her time to hesitate. I grip her fiercely and yank her from her home, listening to her scream and beg me to let go. "We don't have time for this," I keep telling her. "We don't have enough time!" She stops protesting when her house collapses and her screams turn into sobs. _

_I'd comfort her if I could, but suddenly the ground shifts and I drop to the ground. I throw my body over hers to protect her from the next onslaught of debris that litter the sky when I feel it hit. _

"_Gale!" Madge screams my name and shoves me off of her, rolling me on my back. Her fingers wipe at my forehead. "No, no, no," she shakes her head and chokes back her tears. "You're alright. Get up, you're alright!"_

"_Madge," I force out her name as ash fills my lungs. _

"_We're almost there. Gale, please get up. Please._ Please_ get up." The last thing I realize before I slip away is that she's in that damn white dress…_

* * *

"I'm sorry."

We say it at the same time.

Madge sobs into my chest and I stumble backwards until I'm sitting on a rock near the edge of the lake. All I can do is hold her. Promise her that tomorrow is going to be better. But is it? Is there ever going to be a world without Hunger Games and without killing? Will we ever live in a world where there won't be risks we have to take? Bridges we have to cross?

Her parents didn't make it out. She tells me she wouldn't have made it out of I hadn't gone back for her. "I love you," she whimpers into my chest. "You're not worthless and you're not stupid. You're the most important person in the world."

"Madge,"

"No, Gale," she grumbles, wiping at her eyes and smearing the dirt around her face. "I don't care if you love Katniss but I love you."

"Stop that," I mutter. "You know you're the only one for me." Madge continues to sniffle, slowly glancing up at me through her bangs. Her eyes pause on the chain around my neck but she quickly diverts them. "Here," I say, lifting it from around me and placing it over her. "Looks better on you." Madge fiddles with the chain and blinks a few more times. "I love you," I whisper before pressing my lips to hers.

Again she whimpers, clutching my shoulders to keep herself steady. She only pulls away when she hears Posy off to the side say something like, "Look, Momma, they're _kissing_!" Madge lets out a light laugh, but I can hear the undertones of sadness. My forehead drops to hers but she won't meet my eyes. She stares down at my chest and sucks in sharp breaths.

And maybe we haven't got the love story Katniss and Mellark have. Maybe we haven't been through their hell, but we've been through our own.

"What happens now?" she asks. The survivors of our District meander around us. Confused. Scared. Madge tugs on my dirty shirt as though it anchors her down. "What do we do next?"

"No idea," I mumble. "Survive, I guess."

"I feel like that's all any of us ever do," Madge chokes out. "Survive." I run my fingers through her hair as she re-nestles herself against my chest. I try to focus on nothing but her. The feeling of her in my arms. The very grasp that I have on her. "You should probably get back to your mom," Madge tells me weakly. "She's staring at us like a hawk."

"She's just scared."

"I'm scared, too," Madge whispers. "I'm terrified."

"I know." Because I'm just as terrified as she is. What happens next? "I'll do whatever I have to, Madge. I'll keep us safe. All of us. Somehow."

She smiles and I feel her tears leaking through my shirt. "I trust you."

When I return to my family I have Madge in tow. They don't object. They don't question it. A few hours later I'm cleared to hunt as long as I check back in every once in a while so they know that I'm still awake. At night Madge sleeps curled up to my side, shaking from nightmares that I can't force from her head. We only sleep for hours at a time due to night terrors and the fact that if I sleep for too long my mother's scared I won't wake up. She doesn't understand that I have plenty of reason to be awake now.

* * *

The hovercrafts arrive unexpectedly two days later. We hide before realizing they don't have the symbol of the Capitol painted on their side, but rather an emblem I never thought I'd see in person. The one of District 13.

Maybe it's an uncalculated risk boarding the ships, but I've taken plenty of those before. And everything's turned out a lot better than fate probably intended it to be.

* * *

_A/N: Hate me. Don't hate me. Gale got knocked out during the bombings and had to find a way to wake up. Madge was his way. I've hinted at it all through the story. Maybe reading this was an uncalculated risk in itself. I'm super thankful for all of my wonderful readers and reviewers, you all mean the world to me. I hope you enjoyed the story at least a little bit. I love you all. I really do. Thank you._


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